


Too Early For Goodbye

by just_like_lili



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst, Anorexia, Because they kinda share that really, Bottom Harry, Bottom Louis, Bulimia, But i’m a sucker for soft harry, Depression, Drunk Sex, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Dubious Consent, First Everything basically, First Time Blow Jobs, Flashbacks, Forgiveness, Harry Styles Has An Eating Disorder, Heartbreak, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Infidelity, Light Bondage, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Riding, Rimming, Sexual Experimentation, Smut, Take Me Home Tour, Top Harry, Top Louis, Up All Night Tour, Versatility, hook-ups
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:22:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 34,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27686890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_like_lili/pseuds/just_like_lili
Summary: Resentment had always seemed to leave a bitter taste in Harry's mouth. And yet somehow, at the exact same time, it was still the sweetest of all the complex emotions he constantly found himself feeling.And that should be very telling.---Even a year after his and Louis' breakup, Harry is left broken and confused. With all the pain and heartbreak he's experienced, he turns to unhealthy ways of coping, including taking his rage out on himself.
Relationships: Eleanor Calder/Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 55
Kudos: 103





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! If you clicked on this, I hope it’s because you want to read this, and if you’re coming back again, thank you. Before I’m accused of plagiarizing, this is my fic and my original work, and if you’ve read the first 13 chapters before, it was probably on my old account, @bluehairedbaby. I created this account in order to finish my stories, especially this one, because I had been so eager to write it. I may or may not post other works on there, but this is a work in progress. I’m testing the waters, and I’ll see where this goes. For the meantime, I hope you enjoy the book.
> 
> -
> 
> I'm so glad that you're reading this, but if you are, then please be aware that this is a trigger warning for eating disorders. I hoped I tagged it well enough so people can stay away from it if necessary.
> 
> There is also one scene that contains mildly dubious consent, but nothing is graphic.
> 
> I will put TWs at the beginning of chapters that contain potential triggers and then summarize them in the end notes.

Resentment had always seemed to leave a bitter taste in Harry’s mouth. And yet somehow, at the exact same time, it was still the sweetest of all the complex emotions he constantly found himself feeling.

And that should be very telling. 

It was not fair whatsoever that he should have to feel like this. It wasn’t his fault, he never asked for it, and yet, there he was. And Harry was the sad one, while _he_ was fine. _He_ was in the other room, probably having the time of _his_ life. She was with _him_. 

_He_ was the one to cause all the problems, but Harry was the one left to pick up the pieces of what had been the best year and a half of his life and salvage what was left of them. All he had were a few memories, too painful to think of now without getting emotional. Harry had often caught himself slipping into his old habits, crying over _him_ when _he_ didn’t deserve that kind of treatment. Harry should’ve made _him_ leave a long time ago, he should’ve made _him_ feel just like Harry did. 

But he didn’t. For some odd, unknown reason, Harry couldn’t bring himself to let go of the living reminder of the constant storm raging in his mind yet. _He’d_ let go a long time ago, if _he_ was ever even holding on in the first place. 

Harry doubted _he_ even cared anymore. _He’d_ seemed to move on quickly, determined to get Harry out of _his_ life and leaving Harry to pick up the mess _he_ made. It wasn’t fair. It was never going to be fair. And as long as Harry felt this angry and resentful towards _him_ , he’d keep justifying it. 

It was his right to be petty and angry over every little thing. _He_ didn’t just get to up and leave when _he_ wanted. _He_ treated what they had, their love, their fights, everything they put into getting heard by the people in charge of them so they wouldn’t have to hide away, _he_ treated it like nothing. _He_ acted like what they had was nothing. That it was worthless and just a phase in life and they could both be adults about it and get over a teenage fling. 

Harry knew that he would never forget this feeling. He would never forget how awful he felt, how worthless and resentful and helpless he felt. Harry hoped that one day, _he_ would feel just as despondent and numb as Harry was feeling right then, in that moment. 

Harry wished _he_ could know what it felt like to have your heart broken over and over every night as he wondered where it had gone wrong. What he’d done wrong. Maybe if he’d tried a little bit more, he wouldn’t feel this way. Maybe he wouldn’t be in this situation. Maybe _he_ would’ve stayed. Maybe _he_ would still love Harry. Maybe _he_ would be in Harry’s room, stroking his curls and kissing him on the cheek, instead of whatever _he_ was doing in the other room with her. Harry had to listen to their giggles, their laughs, until it died down and Harry didn’t even want to imagine what was happening in the other room or what they were up to.

It hurt enough that there were permanent photos of them up on the Internet for everyone to see and repost and write and blog about. Sometimes all he wanted was to slam his computer lid down and throw the laptop across the room, but that was sure to send him running in to check out what the noise was. Harry knew. He’d thrown something before, and _he’d_ come in as soon as _he_ could. _He_ was scared something had happened in Harry’s room, and Harry wasn’t even sure why _he_ gave a fuck. Why should _he_ have the right to be scared about Harry when _he_ was the one who caused all this in the first place? As far as Harry was concerned, _he_ didn’t have the right to try and be involved in what Harry did from now on, _he_ didn’t have any right to care. Not after _he_ walked out that day and left Harry on the floor, confused and hurt and guilty, the tears pouring down his face. 

Harry sighed, pursing his lips as he pulled his blanket closer around his body. He shivered, the blanket barely helping to warm his small frame. Goosebumps arose along the skin on his arms, and he rubbed at the skin, trying to get the blood flowing within his veins. He was still chilly beneath the fluffy, spotted pink blanket, and he sighed again, this time in frustration. He could get underneath the heavy duvet, but he didn’t want to get too hot. Besides, the air conditioning unit would stop soon, and then it wouldn’t be so cold. 

He wasn’t sure what compelled him to keep the blanket. He guessed it was a security thing, like he needed it to sleep soundly, even though nights like those were rare. But sometimes, he had to admit, it helped to hold it close while he was trying to fall asleep, even its scent helped to calm him down. Even though it was weird to think that Harry was calming down and falling asleep because of _his_ scent. But most nights, he was too tired to even consider that small fact. It just helped, regardless of whether it was _his_ or not. It didn’t make Harry want to forgive _him_ , but he wasn’t ready to let go of that blanket, the one small reminder of everything he’d lost, which was somehow still the only thing to calm him down. 

He’d needed it a lot, especially after their fights about whether Harry would even stay in the apartment. In the end he fought long enough and loudly enough to stay, but he had to move into the guest room, and then suddenly, they didn’t have a guest room, it was just his room. It was drab. He hadn’t bothered putting up any photos, since the only ones he really liked were his family or _him_. The only things he had were a stack of unopened boxes in the closet and his bed, a nightstand and a lamp (which had already been in the room.) He didn’t have enough energy to get a stand for his guitar, or to even consider decorating the room. It didn’t feel like his own, why should it look like his? He had what he needed, and really, that should be enough for him. He was lucky enough to even stay in the flat, he didn’t need anything fancy. 

He took in a deep breath, exhaling shakily. He was getting worked up once again over nothing. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind, and he leaned back against the pillows, looking once more down at his phone screen. He was on twitter, per usual, and occasionally he’d comment under a fan’s post or like one of their tweets. Some fans were nice to him, and others, well, they just weren’t. It wasn’t anything he didn’t expect, but it still hurt to see when someone commented about his body, his skin, his voice, and then didn’t give a reason for it. He didn’t know how to handle that. He was ok if people disliked him for a reason. But when someone just hates you for no reason, it feels like they hate you just for being there. Just for existing. 

The thought alone stung.

He paused, pursing his lip as he read. It was just a one word caption, along with a picture of Harry and _him_. They’d been on the X Factor at that point, and that was when Harry felt happy and _he_ was still there. Now, _he_ just wasn’t. Neither of them were. But he had to admit, he smiled slightly at the sight of them, grinning up at Harry through the screen of his phone. The caption was simply: boyfriends. 

He sighed, bitterness settling in his stomach as he only felt resentful. Resentful towards the boy who used to hold him, but now, _he_ acted like what Harry and _him_ had never happened in the first place. If it was _his_ place to forget everything that they had ever had, then it was Harry’s place to feel resentful. 

He clicked off of the tweet, scrolling down further in his feed. Suddenly, his screen lit up with an incoming call. He pursed his lips in the form of a smile, sliding his thumb across the screen and holding the phone up to his ear. “Hey Liam,” he said, trying to make his voice sound cheerful. 

“Hey,” Liam said softly. “How have you been feeling?” Harry shrugged. “I dunno,” he murmured. “I saw you yesterday.” He heard a rustling on the other end of the line as Liam replied, “Well, yeah, but I want to know how you’re doing today.” Harry paused, pursing his lips. 

“I think I’m doing alright,” Harry answered after a minute. “Oh,” Liam said, understanding. “Wanna talk about it?” Harry sighed. “No,” he said. “I don’t really wanna get into it. Not now, at least,” he added, an attempt to sound like he hadn’t lost all hope. 

“Yeah,” Liam said. “So, we’re writing next week, huh?” Harry nodded. To be honest, he was confused about writing the new album so soon. They’d only released their first album last year. Don’t get him wrong, Harry loved the idea. He never thought he’d get one album, let alone two, but it all seemed so soon. Harry just wanted to relish in the glory of their first album a little while longer, but their managers had other ideas. They’d told them it would be the best move, that it would keep the crowds satisfied, and that more material meant that there was a higher possibility of their songs getting on the charts. Harry felt uneasy, but he agreed. What else was he supposed to do? He was barely eighteen, he didn’t understand how these things worked. 

“Yeah,” he said absentmindedly. He heard Liam’s breath hitch on the other end, and Harry winced, feeling a jolt of fear. He didn’t want to seem put off or upset, he didn’t want to offend Liam, he just couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t indifferent to many things when he was in this state of mind. 

“Well, anyways,” Liam continued, despite Harry’s rising heart rate. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner? We were just gonna go to a bar and grab a pizza, I thought you might like to join us?” Harry smiled softly at the thought of that. He hadn’t gone out in months, not with his friends, anyways, but they were always kind enough to ask him when they knew what the answer would be. All the same, he had to admit, the idea of a pizza seemed enticing, and he was almost tempted. But the empty feeling in his stomach just seemed to egg him on, and he said, “No thanks. I’m just going to get leftovers or something.”

“Are you sure?” Liam asked him. Harry sighed, pursing his lips. “Yeah,” he said. “You guys go on without me. I’ll be alright.” 

“Alright then,” Liam said. He said his goodbyes, and then he hung up. Harry let his phone drop onto the mattress beside him, and he curled up in bed, feeling the cold sting of loneliness spread throughout his aching body.

Suddenly the door opened. Harry glanced sharply over at the intruder, and there _he_ was. 

“I’m going with Liam to get pizza,” Louis said. Harry stared at _him_ blankly, the words gone from his mind. He felt resentful, but looking at Louis’ face, he couldn’t help but feel a familiar ache inside of his chest, the tingle on his lips where he used to be kissed. Louis arched a brow, looking Harry up and down. “You alright there, mate?”

Harry’s nose wrinkled in disgust. The very word mate felt forced and unnatural directed at him by Louis. That shouldn’t be happening. Harry used to be _darling_ , and _baby_ , and _love_ , but now, he was just _mate_. 

“Yeah,” Harry said. “Liam asked me already. I’m not going.” Louis’ smile dropped for a minute, but the falter was barely noticeable once _he_ quickly said, “Alright then. Hope you have fun. I rented a couple movies, you could watch them too.”

And with that, _he_ was gone. Harry swallowed around the lump in his throat. He just wished he didn’t still have to deal with this. He was tired of being in love with _him_.


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey, love,” Anne said, smiling warmly behind the screen of her computer. Harry smiled back, taking a deep breath. He could feel himself relax, sitting in the plastic kitchen chair. The air in the room was cold, but it was fine. He had his jacket, wrapped around his frame loosely. He was a little tired, but he hoped it didn’t show in his grin, which he readily faked for his mum. 

A couple days later, and Harry was calling his mum again. He missed her a lot. If it were up to him, they’d see each other more often. 

“Hi.” He said, his voice sounding deep and husky. In the past year alone his voice had dropped, but he sounded weird… and lost, maybe. He watched his mum’s eyebrows furrow together as she frowned. “Are you alright, darling?” She asked out of concern. He nodded, straightening up in his chair. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said quickly. “Just a little frog in my throat, I guess.” He watched her gaze soften, a slight smile upturning the corners of her lips. “Have you tried tea?” She asked. “That could help if you’re under the weather.”

Harry nodded, taking a deep breath as he continued the lie. “Yeah, I’ll try that,” he said, positioning the computer so he could watch the screen as he got up to make a cup of tea behind his seat. He didn’t want to let her down, so he just went with it. Besides, it was just a cup of tea, and even after his breakfast, he could still eat. It didn’t matter. It was just liquid, right? Besides, even though he wasn’t really sick, tea wouldn’t make anything worse. It might help him, really. He hadn’t sat down to read with a cup of tea in a long time, and maybe that was something he would do more, you know, to clear his mind. 

He wasn’t about to tell her the real reason for his husky voice, and why he’d been surprised. She’d just hate that she was the first person he’d speak to all day, at noon, no less, in his sweats. She’d hate knowing the hours he’d spent last night, staying up and remembering all the good times, wondering where it had gone wrong. 

And he had begun to think that he didn’t cry himself to sleep every night anymore. 

“Do you have any throat lozenges?” She asked as he sat back down in his seat, waiting for the electric kettle to come to a boil. He shrugged. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t know where to find them if we do have them.”

“I could always bring some to you,” she suggested, laughing slightly. He sighed again, shaking his head with a chuckle. “No,” he said. “Please don’t. I’ll get some in my own time.” She nodded again, her smile faltering. “I wish that I could see you,” she admitted wistfully. “I wish you lived closer.” 

“Me too,” he agreed.

“Do you think you could come down next week?” she asked, her voice hopeful. Harry pursed his lips regretfully, shaking his head. “We’re writing next week,” he answered. “Sorry. I’ll tell you when I’ll be able to come down for a visit.”

She sighed. “I just don’t see why I can’t see you more,” she said. “You’re still a kid.” He nodded despite his inward disagreement. “Yeah, but I’m not a baby, Mum,” he said softly. “I’m an adult now. I should get to choose where I live.”

“But I still see Gemma more than you,” she protested. “I miss having you around.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat as she added, “Who’s to say that you can’t come live with me?”

“Management,” Harry said bluntly. “They want us to stay in London. Sorry, it’s just what they say,” he added apologetically, seeing the falter in her expression and the ever-so-slight roll of her eyes. She sighed, her breath coming in heavy through the computer microphone. “Are you still living with Louis, though?” She asked. 

Harry sat silently. 

“Darling, I just want what’s best for you,” she said to clarify. “But I don’t know if what’s best for you right now is to stay with him after what he did to you.”

He blinked, dashing back the tears in his eyes. “I know, Mum,” he said, his voice hitching. “But it’s still my choice, and it’s not his flat, it’s mine too. It’s ours,” he added. “We moved in together, so either both of us leave or neither of us does.”

“Maybe you should rethink that,” Anne murmured softly. 

And if not for the slow boil of the kettle and the subsequent high pitched beep, the air in the room would have hung thickly with tension. Harry got up briskly, rubbing at his eyes and pulling out a mug. He said nothing, making his tea while he had his back turned to her. 

It wasn’t her fault. If anything, it was the truth. But Harry had already accepted that he was fine with lying to himself so long as things didn’t have to just drastically change yet again. 

He turned back around, with red rimmed eyes and a bright smile on his face, holding his cup of tea as he sat back down, facing the computer camera. “So, how’s Dad?” He asked. “Haven’t talked with him in a while.” Anne nodded, smiling. “Um, I saw him a little while back with Gemma, he seems to be doing fine,” she answered. “We should all get together sometime. You know, have a big family lunch or something.”

Harry smiled. “That would be nice,” he said. She smiled. “I do miss you so much,” she said again, and he could feel his own smile faltering as she added, “and I miss seeing photos of you with your friends. I saw some on Twitter a little while ago, and everyone’s out. I don’t know, I just miss seeing you out and about.”

He felt his heart sink. “How long ago was that?” He asked. She shrugged. “I think maybe fifteen minutes ago. Right before you called me,” she explained. Swallowing, Harry pulled up a second page, quickly clicking on the Twitter application and logging in. His eyes scanned his feed, until his eye caught a very recent post from an update account. 

And sure enough, there they were. Sitting outside at a restaurant, looking over at the camera with a smirk and a side glance. To make it worse, Louis was wearing the exact same clothes he had been when he went out the door that morning. Down to the same striped shirt and pants and everything. Even the beanie he’d been wearing was sitting in his lap as he had his fingers tangled in his hair, and Harry just looked at the digital photo. 

For the first time, he hadn’t even received an invitation.

It might be selfish to think the way he was, but even when he didn’t want to do anything, he was touched by the smallest act of somebody caring enough to invite him anyways. And nobody had. Not even Louis, even though Harry watched him walk out the door, even though Harry asked where he was going, and all Louis said in return was that he was getting a bite to eat. He didn’t mention that they were going out in public behind his back and having fun and probably talking about him and how much they hated that he kept refusing their invitations. 

“Harry?” His mum’s voice snapped him back into reality. He looked back at the video, staring blankly at his own mother. She pursed her lips, crushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Should I call you back?” She asked. “It doesn’t seem like a good time.” He blinked, swallowing. “Uh, ok,” he said. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “I’ll just give you a little bit of time,” she said. “Do you want to call me later?” He nodded profusely. Smiling softly, she said, “Goodbye, I love you,” quietly, reaching to end the call. He sighed, watching the screen go black. And yet again, he was alone. The flat seemed so empty, and he couldn’t help but feel so small in the middle of the kitchen. 

Why did the littlest things have to hurt so much? He hated that he was so fucking sensitive to the point that it hurt when he didn’t get invited out with his friends, or when his mum gave him time to be alone. He didn’t want to be alone. He wanted somebody with him who would care and comfort him, but nobody wanted to come to his aid. Exhaling shakily, he felt tears pricking the backs of his eyes again, welling up in the corners and brimming his eyelids. He hated crying. Tears never got him anywhere. You thought he would’ve learned that he’d cried too much by now, but whenever he stopped and got to this state of numbness, it was just the calm before the storm started back up. He never got a break. 

He bit his lip, trying to hold back his tears. He didn’t want to be like this. He didn’t want to be afraid to go outside because he’d look all disheveled and sad, and that wasn’t a good look for the band. He just wanted to feel happy again, without this overwhelming sense of heartbreak and confusion. 

He looked up sharply, realizing something: 

_ he was happiest when he loved somebody.  _

And if he couldn’t have Louis, then so be it. Harry wasn’t going to spend his entire life wallowing over him and feeling sorry for himself. Louis didn’t deserve that. He’d already moved on from their relationship while he was in their relationship, and Harry deserved to feel happy. 

Taking a deep breath, Harry stood up, walking into the next room. His phone was on the couch, where he’d sat all morning, watching the news and watching Louis walk out the door. He picked it up, dialing a number and holding the phone up to his ear. 

“Hey, Nick,” he said, smiling softly. “Harry!” Nick cried, and Harry smiled a bit. He’d missed his friend. “Haven’t heard from you in a while,” the older man said over the phone. “Yeah,” Harry said apologetically. “We should get together sometime.”

“You have a radio interview with me in a couple weeks,” Nick reminded him. “We could always get a couple of drinks afterwards, if you want.” Harry smiled. “That would be nice,” he said, agreeing with Nick. “But I was wondering if you could do me a favor?” He asked. “Sure,” Nick said. “What is it?” Harry bit his lip nervously. 

“I was wondering if you could set me up on a date?” He asked. Nick hesitated, and Harry swallowed hard, trying to hold himself together. “I mean, I could,” Nick said slowly, “but is there a particular reason? You’re not trying to just get over him?”

“No,” Harry said. “I just- I don’t know. I just want to feel something again. And I’m tired of being tired and unhappy. Do you understand?” He heard a rustling on the other end of the line, and he assumed that Nick nodded. “Ok, then,” he said. “Are you just looking for, like, a casual hookup, or a long term thing?” Harry took a deep breath, answering, “I think, maybe a long term thing? Maybe just seeing where it goes?”

“Ok,” Nick said. “It’s funny that you should ask right now. I actually have another friend who’s looking for a date.” Harry’s eyebrows raised. “Really?” He said, slightly shocked. “Yeah,” Nick said. “His name’s Jayden. I think you two would be good together.”

“What’s he like?” Harry asked out of curiosity. “Well, he’s a guitarist,” Nick explained. “He’s heard of the band, he’s not a complete fan but he’s heard of you. He knows that you and I are friends. He’s funny. Again, I think you two would like each other. I’ll send you his number.”

“Alright,” Harry said. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Nick said. Harry smiled. And just like that, he had a date. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2: any thoughts?


	3. Chapter 3

Harry looked at himself in the mirror, gently touching his own cheek as he brushed a curl out of his face. He needed a haircut, definitely. His hair had grown a lot since he’d last had it cut by their stylist, Lou. He hadn’t seen her in a long while. Not since their tour ended and they started to record for the album, but he hoped to see her soon. They’d have a radio appearance, and his management would likely make him trim his hair for that. The curls would likely be styled again, however much he just wanted to brush them out. 

He looked awkward. His hair was just floppy and big, and he didn’t really know what to do with it. It was too long for a quiff, so he wouldn’t be able to ask Zayn for any product to hold his chocolate curls in an upward swoop. Not that he’d ever be able to pull off what Zayn had going on. And he wouldn’t be able to have hair like Niall’s where Lou blowdried it and then brushed it, or like Liam’s. Harry just had floppy curls that he had no clue how to style. He tried to make them look good, but he just didn’t know. He had no output from anyone. Nobody even knew he was going on a date, so why would they give him tips? 

He tugged at his curls, trying to part them. Maybe if he separated them in the middle and then flattened the sides out, he mused, pulling more curls towards both sides. Pursing his lips, he looked back at his reflection and sighed. It wasn’t an improvement. It wasn’t worse, but it got him nowhere. He wanted to look good for his date, and he just… well, he didn’t really look like much. 

There was darkness beneath his eyes. Not quite full semicircles, but definitely shadows of a haunted sleep. He kept licking over his chapped lips, and they were red. He kept pinching his cheeks, trying to get a little color to return to the cold pallor of his skin. Quite frankly, he looked awful, and it showed in huge amounts. And the worst part was that he still noticed, even after he’d dabbed concealer under his eyes, or ran a makeup brush over his cheeks, making them look rosy and alive, and after he’d put a tiny bit of gloss on his lips, and then wiped it off, replacing it with chapstick. People tended to notice when he wore even the slightest bit of makeup, and he didn’t want anyone to point out the slight pinkness of his lips after smearing the gloss over them. He winced a tiny bit taking them off, just wishing he didn’t have to feel guilty about caring too much. 

He didn’t have much makeup, and most of the stuff he had, he never once used. Like the lip stain in the corner. He couldn’t even remember what he’d gotten that for, or who he’d gotten that for. The tube of mascara, which he was always tempted to try on but he never gave in for fear of what everyone might think. Most noticeably, the eyeshadows, which he hadn’t even bought for himself. 

He sighed, trying to recall the memory. 

He hadn’t even bought them for himself, Louis had. As a present. And Harry wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be a joke or if it was a hint, but Harry hadn’t touched it since he’d opened it up on his birthday in the first place. The colors were pretty though. Shimmery shades of blue and gold and red, and Harry couldn’t lie and say that he wasn’t tempted by the kit. But he didn’t want to. Maybe he would, had it been a present from anybody else. 

He smacked his lips, looking at himself again. He ran his fingers through his hair one more time, pushing his curls out of his face. It would do. 

Taking a deep breath, he stood up, walking towards the door of the bathroom and making his way through the flat. He picked up his coat off his bed, slipping one arm in through its sleeve by the time he reached the kitchen. He’d almost made his way out the door before a familiar voice stopped him. 

“Hey,” Louis said softly, sitting at the kitchen table with a bag of crisps. Harry turned, looking his…  _ friend _ up and down. Louis smirked. “You’re lookin’ fancy,” he said teasingly. Harry nodded, and then it hit him. 

This was his chance to get back at him. Even if it was little and meaningless, Harry just felt the urge to show off, to rub it in Louis’ face. 

“Yeah,” he said, grinning softly. “I gotta date.” He saw a flash of surprise in Louis’ blue eyes, but the older boy’s expression stayed consistent, his smile never faltering, not even for a moment. “Really?” He asked. Harry nodded profusely. “Yeah,” he said. “He’s fit, too. Nick sent me pictures,” He explained, and it wasn’t a lie. Jayden was certainly a sight for sore eyes. Louis’ eyebrows furrowed together. “Nick?” He echoed, mouth full of crisps. 

Harry nodded. “He set us up,” he said. “I called him a couple days ago and asked him.” Louis looked even more confused. “So, a blind date?” He asked. Harry arched a brow, nodding. This was it. He was making Louis jealous. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m just wanting to try something new.” He put careful stress on his words, not trying to make it sound painfully obvious what he was doing, but also trying to get his point across.

Louis nodded, and to Harry’s surprise, he even nodded. “Good for you, lad,” he said cheerfully. Now it was Harry’s turn to maintain his fake smile as Louis congratulated him. “Glad you’re putting yourself out there,” Louis said, and Harry tried to imagine the slight change in his tone, but Louis looked proud, almost, like he was actually glad that Harry was finally moving on. 

Harry nodded, taking a deep breath. “Well, yeah,” he stammered, “thanks. I gotta go now,” he added quickly, reaching for the door handle. “The restaurant’s across town.” Louis nodded, just keeping on smiling. “Just call me when you’re headed home,” he said. “I’ll leave a light on.” 

Harry didn’t even bother to acknowledge that last comment. He was out the door by then, his keys in his pocket, swallowing hard. He should’ve known. He should’ve fucking seen it coming. He couldn’t believe he was stupid enough to believe that Louis would actually be hurt if Harry moved on from what they had. Because of course, it wasn’t a negative thing for Louis. Harry was his friend, he just reacted the same way he’d react if any other one of his mates got a girlfriend. There was no exception for Harry, even when you took a deep look at their history. 

Harry sighed, looking upwards as he thought about how this whole nightmare began. He walked to the parking garage, getting in his car, and he closed his eyes briefly before sliding the keys into the ignition, picturing it like a vivid photograph, clear as day. 

**July 22, 2010**

Harry fiddled with the hem of his sweatshirt, pursing his lips. He was standing to the side, watching everybody else as they warmed up, ready for dancing. He didn’t want to dance. It wasn’t fun when somebody had to tell you what to do at all times. That was the worst. 

Dancing should be should. You shouldn’t have to care. If the music was blaring loudly enough and you were in the spirit, then just let loose and do whatever.  _ That _ was dancing. It was fun and felt lighthearted, and Harry couldn’t care less what people thought about him. Even if he was jumping around and swinging his arms above his head, it didn’t matter, so long as he was having fun. That was what it was all about. Having fun and getting lost in the moment. 

He just hoped that he wouldn’t have to dance if he got past this stage of bootcamp. He didn’t want to learn something beforehand and then do the same thing over and over and over again on a stage for different people. That was just boring. If he went to a show, he wanted something brand new and unique, and not just a choreographed and scripted show. He knew that some people loved routine, but there was no fun in that. He wanted to be a singer, not an actor. What was the use of a performer then? 

He crossed his fingers, trying to remember all of the steps in his mind. He would throw both arms up twice, then take a step forward, reaching to scoop at the air in front of him as he leaned forward, then jump back, form a fist with his hand and almost punch the air twice. His memory got a little fuzzy after that, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to remember. 

He swallowed hard. He needed to be anywhere else, it was just too crowded. The room was full of people, and he needed some fresh air. Turning to leave, he took a breath, walking down the stairs as fast as he could, and  _ smack _ ! he collided into someone else headfirst.

He fell to the ground with a cry, clutching his head tightly. “Shit,” the other boy muttered to himself. “Hi, are you ok?” He asked Harry. 

Harry looked up slowly, blinking. Tears had involuntarily sprung to his eyes, and that was the last thing he wanted. He didn’t want to look like a baby, even as young as he was. He wanted to be taken seriously. “Oops,” he said softly, trying to force a laugh. He grit his teeth together. The other boy crouched down, reaching out to look at Harry’s head, prying away his fingers from his curls. “Ouch,” he said sympathetically, gingerly touching the top of Harry’s forehead. “Should I ask for some help?” He asked Harry. “I could get an ice pack or something. I’m sure they have a first-aid kit, I think that’s the rules or summat.” 

Harry shook his head. “I’ll be fine,” he insisted, trying to stand up. He stumbled a tiny bit, but the other boy caught him, and he felt goosebumps rising on his skin as the other boy’s fingers brushed his sides, and a shudder ran down his spine. He looked into the boy’s face for the first time, and was shocked to see what a beautiful shade of blue his eyes were. The boy smiled. “I’m Louis, by the way,” he said, shaking Harry’s hand. The curly haired boy nodded, his jaw dropped slightly. “Harry,” he breathed. 

Louis was beautiful. He was probably the prettiest person Harry had ever known, and he was sweet too. Not to mention, he was fit. Harry swallowed hard, feeling sparks in his fingertips, radiating up his arm as he shook his head. 

“I know,” Louis said with a smile. “I watched your audition. Isn’t She Lovely, right?” He asked, and Harry nodded eagerly. “Yeah, that was me,” Harry said. Louis grinned. “You have a good voice,” he said sincerely, and Harry blushed at the compliment. “Thanks,” he stammered. 

“Well, I should get back onstage,” Louis said, glancing over at the stairs. “I got the dancing thing in a minute. It was nice meeting you though,” he added, smiling directly at Harry. “I bet that you’ll get through. I hope I’ll get to see you at the judge’s house.” He turned, and Harry felt himself grasping for hope as he cried, “Wait!” 

Louis turned back around, and Harry felt a jolt of fear, having run out of words to say. “Could I have your number?” Harry asked. “I just want to talk, maybe, you know, if my head’s messed up or you know, just to talk-”

“Of course,” Louis said, laughing at Harry’s awkwardness. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a marker. Harry just watched as Louis grasped his wrist, pulling his sleeve a little further down and writing his number on Harry’s wrist, the fabric tip of the marker tickling the pale skin. Harry glanced up, grinning at Louis. The other boy just smiled cheekily. “Give me a call,” he said slyly, winking at Harry. 

And as he left, Harry could just feel his heart skip a beat. He looked at Louis’ back, completely breathless. Then, smirking to himself, he pulled his sleeve down, blushing at the thought of having a pretty boy’s number on his wrist, almost like a tattoo.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

* * *

“So, Jayden,” Harry murmured, looking up at his date across the table for two. Harry met him in a seafood restaurant halfway across London, waiting for him outside like a gentleman. He’d smiled warmly, and shook Harry’s hand, and they’d even hugged. He was nice, so far, and funny. He’d made Harry laugh in the first couple minutes of knowing him, just by telling a corny joke (like Harry would’ve done to break the ice.)

And most noticeable, Harry hadn’t lied when he’d told Louis that Jayden was fit. 

The pictures Nick had sent Harry didn’t really do Jayden justice. He looked more warm, more lively and happy, in real life than in photographs. Sure, he was fit, and photogenic, too, but there was just something about meeting him in real life. He wasn’t anything like Harry’s expectations of him. He seemed stern and intimidating, to be honest, but he was the polar opposite. He was goofy and sweet, and Harry decidedly liked him immediately. 

He looked up at Harry now, amber eyes radiating warmth. He couldn’t have looked more like the opposite of Louis. He was taller than Harry, his hair was shaved at the sides and spiky, and his sweater clung to his muscly arms. Harry had to admit though, he kept finding himself looking away, distracted by the blue decorations and the glowing fish tanks, ones that you’d usually find in a seafood restaurant like this. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to be rude. 

“Do you have any family?” Harry asked, taking a sip of water. Jayden nodded, flashing his perfect grin. “Yeah,” he said softly, smiling at Harry. “I’ve got a little brother. He’s still living with my mum, and my dad lives with my grandparents. He takes care of them,” he explained. Harry smiled, nodding. “I’ve got an older sister. She’s moved out by now, and my mum lives with her boyfriend,” Harry said. “I’m living across town with my- with my bandmate,” he lied quickly. 

Jayden nodded. “I bet it’s nice,” he joked. “I hear your ads and music everywhere. It’s crazy. Props to you all,” he said, complimenting Harry. “I don’t really listen to boy bands, but you all sound good.”Harry smiled. “Thanks,” he said. “Yeah, I never imagined I’d be in a boyband. It’s fun though,” he added. Jayden’s eyebrows furrowed close together. “Well, I’m sure you’d be able to go solo if you wanted,” he said. Harry was sure his date had meant it as a compliment, but it made him feel slightly uneasy. “Well, I don’t want to,” he said quietly. “They’re like my brothers.” 

_Three of them, at least._

Jayden nodded. “I get that. I have a couple of really close friends,” he said. “It’s a really close bond. I don’t live with any of them, though, but you know, when you’re young, you can do what you want,” he said, laughing slightly. Harry nodded, going quiet. He felt the urge to correct Jayden, and tell him everything, but he didn’t. Not yet. 

That wasn’t something he planned to reveal on the first date. First dates are for getting to know each other, and maybe a little further. Harry couldn’t feel much spark, but there was a tiny bit of chemistry there. Maybe if they could get a little closer, or talk a little more, then Harry could feel a bit more of that spark. He just needed to relax. “Would you want to come back to my flat for a drink?” He asked. Jayden smiled. “I’d like that.”

Harry nodded, then a thought crossed his mind. “Shit, my roommate and his girlfriend are home,” he remembered, groaning. Jayden pursed his lips. “You could come to mine,” he offered. “I only live a few minutes away.”

Harry smiled. “That would be nice,” he said. 

\--- 

Harry stepped through the doorway of Jayden’s flat, holding his coat tightly around himself. He glanced up, looking around. “This is nice,” he said, smiling back at Jayden, who had held the door open for him, like a gentleman. The taller man nodded, sighing as he stepped over the threshold. “Thanks,” he said. “I appreciate it.”

“When did you move in?” Harry asked, beginning to remove his coat. It was warm and cozy in the room, too much for Harry to keep it on. Even his sweater beneath was beginning to feel warm, but he could push through it. 

“About a year ago,” Jayden said, removing his bomber jacket. “I moved in after I graduated from uni, and I got a job at the record store down the road. Just a way to make money before I can book a couple gigs,” he said, gesturing to one of his guitars, hanging on a hook on the wall. Harry smiled, looking up at the instrument. “S’ beautiful,” he murmured, reaching up to gently stroke the glossy surface. Jayden watched him happily. “It was my grandfather’s,” he explained. “He made it as a wedding present for my grandmum. I got it as a gift when I learned how to play.”

“That’s lovely,” Harry said, awkwardly shifting. Jayden turned back to look at him, clasping his hands together. “Why don’t you take a seat?” He offered, gesturing to the blue suede couch. “Ok,” Harry said, laughing slightly. He was just trying to ease the tension. 

“Wanna drink?” Jayden asked, smiling charmingly. “Yeah, that sounds nice,” Harry said, looking up at Jayden as he walked to the adjoining kitchen. He heard the clinking of a bottle and glasses, and Jayden walked back over, a bottle of red wine in one hand and two glasses in the other. He smiled confidently, opening the bottle with a popping sound after he sat down beside Harry on the blue cushions. 

“So, what sort of things are you into, Harry?” He asked, pouring a liberal amount of wine into both glasses. Harry chuckled, reaching for one of the glasses. “That’s a good question,” he said. “I like music- obviously,” he added with a laugh, taking a sip of wine. It tasted bitter and sweet on his tongue. “But I read,” he continued. “I like photography, too.”

Jayden nodded. “That’s nice,” he said, captivating the conversation with ease, like he was used to this. His voice dropped slightly, batting his long lashes as he said, “Maybe you could take some photos of me sometime.”

Harry arched a brow at his flirting. “Maybe,” he mused, trying to match his date’s tone. “You’d be a good model. You’re very fit,” he blurted out, making Jayden’s eyebrows raise slightly in surprise. He looked at Harry up and down, pursing his lips slightly. “Thank you,” he said, looking directly into Harry’s eyes. “You’re very beautiful, too,” he said, and Harry blushed. 

Swallowing hard- and taking another sip of alcohol- Harry slowly leaned in, and Jayden did too, and they kissed. He closed his eyes, feeling Jayden’s plump lips against his own, in a kiss that tasted like wine. And maybe this was what Harry wanted all along- to feel close to someone, to feel something intimate, like this- and he tried to hold on to the spark. 

Jayden broke away first, setting his glass down on the coffee table. Harry did the same, and then they moved in closer, kissing again. It was just like that- the room was quiet, they weren’t in emanate danger of anyone walking in on them. They were just experiencing something new together as the sky slowly darkened outside. 

Jayden was the one to make a further move. He wrapped his arm around Harry’s waist, pulling him an inch or two closer, and Harry’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment, but he allowed it. Jayden’s fingers felt oddly foreign, and heavy on Harry’s waist. It was different, and Harry was still trying to figure out if he liked different. 

And then, suddenly, Jayden’s other hand slipped in front of Harry’s pants, palming him through the denim, his fingers nearly hooking on his zipper. Harry made a little noise, surprised, and he broke away, trying to catch his breath. Almost instantly, Jayden began to attack his neck, pressing little kisses to the soft skin. Harry swallowed. “Maybe we should slow down?” He suggested, squirming a little. Jayden persisted, licking over a spot on his neck, and he leaned down, beginning to suck softly, right above his pulse point. Harry shuddered, having to stifle a gasp. He felt a flush in his cheeks as he felt himself growing in his pants, and he squeezed his eyes shut, _grinding_ into Jayden’s hand. 

“Fuck,” he gasped as Jayden pulled away from his throat. The taller man smirked, moving back up to kiss Harry on the lips as he worked on the button of Harry’s jeans, slowly and almost teasingly pulling his zipper down. He hooked two fingers under the elastic of Harry’s briefs, trailing along the soft skin. Harry moaned unashamedly, sitting up. He swung his right leg over Jayden’s lap, moving in front of him and straddling him. He moved his hands up to caress Jayden’s cheeks and Jayden’s hand dropped down, cupping his bum and squeezing tightly. Harry squeaked, moving his hips against Jayden’s. 

Jayden broke away again. He practically panted, trying to catch his breath. “Well,” he said, chuckling slightly. “Do you wanna call it quits here- or we could go back to my bedroom?” He offered. Harry thought. 

He was going to tell Louis when he was coming home. He told him he would. It was late, and he’d turned off his phone, so he had no idea how many messages he might have been receiving from him. 

But on the other hand- what did he owe to Louis? Nothing. Harry owed him nothing, certainly not the pleasure of knowing where he was at all times. 

Besides, this was a level of intimacy that Harry had been craving. Fuck the first date rules- he didn’t care that he might be putting out too soon. He needed to feel close to someone, and if this was his only shot, he was going to take it. 

“Bedroom,” Harry said quickly. “Definitely bedroom.” Jayden grinned to himself, his amber eyes gone darker with lust, as he cupped his hands under Harry’s bum, hoisting him up as he himself stood up from the blue suede couch. Harry giggled, wrapping his legs around Jayden’s torso as the man carried him through the halls. 

Jayden pushed- or kicked- the door open with his toes, walking over to the bed and (gently) laying Harry down on his back. Instantly, he moved over him, connecting their lips as he scrambled to remove his shirt. Hooking his fingers under his shirt, Jayden sat back, pulling it over his head. Harry’s jaw dropped. 

Jayden was definitely fit. He had well-toned abs, and muscles for miles. Harry swallowed nervously, suddenly feeling very self conscious about the pudge of his own belly. 

Jayden smirked, licking his lips. He helped Harry to pull up his sweater- much as Harry was unenthused to- and hooked his fingers on the waistband of Harry’s jeans. The fly was already undone, and Jayden pulled his jeans down, chuckling at how they caught a couple times as he tried to peel them off of Harry’s thighs. Harry flushed a deep shade of pink with embarrassment. Maybe he should ask how Jayden got so… muscly? 

“Have you ever done this before?” Jayden asked, his voice sultry and low. Harry nodded. “Once, with an ex boyfriend,” he said, trying not to let the painful memories come rushing back. Jayden nodded, reaching over for his drawers. He pulled out a bottle of lube and a condom wrapper. Harry propped himself up on the pillows as Jayden settled between his legs. 

He heard a snick as the bottle opened, and he glanced down as Jayden poured some over his fingers. He rubbed them against each other, leaning down to Harry’s hole. Harry could feel hot breaths near his balls and hole before Jayden pressed the pad of his finger against Harry’s rim, easing it in slightly. Harry hissed at the feeling, but Jayden pushed on, curling his index finger and moving it around inside of Harry. Quickly, he was adding a second finger, and Harry squeezed his eyes shut at the discomfort. It had been a while since he’d done anything beyond his own fingers (and maybe a vibrator) which would explain the discomfort. But it would be ok, it would get better. He knew from experience. 

It wasn’t all bad, and pretty soon, Jayden had Harry moaning beneath him as he was three fingers deep, inching nearer to his prostate. “Jayden,” Harry said, and they locked eyes. Harry swallowed, catching his breath. “Fuck me, please.”

He didn’t have to say anything more. Quickly, Jayden was pulling his fingers out of Harry and picking up the condom wrapper, tearing it open and rolling it over his length. He leaned over Harry, lining himself up, and pushing himself inside of him slowly. Harry cried out, wrapping his arms around Jayden’s bare back as he thrusted in and out of Harry, holding up his thighs to angle it just right. 

Harry came quicker than he’d like to admit, and Jayden wasn’t long to follow. After they’d finished, he went into the bathroom, pulling out a wet flannel to clean Harry and himself up with. He asked Harry to stay. 

“Why don’t you spend the night here?” 

And Harry agreed, too sleepy to think about anything else. Many thoughts crossed his mind as he lay in bed, naked, his clothes and shoes thrown over the floor. Jayden came back to bed after going through his flat, turning the lights off, and he cuddled up to Harry, kissing his neck as he dozed off. 

Harry completely forgot what he’d promised to Louis in the first place. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t going home that night.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry stirred briefly, taking in his first conscious breath of the day. He swallowed, his throat dry. His eyes squeezed tightly shut. He knew he was lying in bed, he knew he should get up, he just didn’t want to. Not yet. 

He felt a warm arm around his bare shoulders, and he smiled, leaning into the warmth. He sighed softly, almost speaking the first name that came to mind. Then, his eyes shot open. 

He pinched himself. He almost cursed out loud for forgetting that this wasn’t two years ago. He wasn’t going to wake up next to Louis, and he certainly wasn’t going to say his name first thing in the morning. Not after the night he’d spent with Jayden, finally moving on from all the shit that had gone down just the year before. 

Speaking of Jayden, he must’ve sensed the distress Harry was in… that, or he just woke up after Harry sat up in bed, rubbing his temples as he tried to calm himself down. Jayden yawned, furrowing his eyebrows at Harry as the younger boy rubbed at his forehead. “You hungover or somethin’?” He asked Harry, his words slurred by exhaustion. Harry turned back to look at him, reluctant to tell the truth. It would be insulting to Jayden to admit that he’d almost called him his ex’s name. 

“Yeah,” he said, almost apologetically. Jayden looked a little confused. “How?” He asked, chuckling. “You barely had a glass.” Harry shrugged. “I guess I’m a lightweight,” he joked, much to Jayden’s amusement. “Well, I’ve got Ibuprofen you can take if you need it,” Jayden offered. Harry shook his head. “I think I’ll be fine,” he said, “but thanks.” 

Jayden smiled. “So, last night,” he said slowly. “How was it for you? Was it ok?” Harry smiled softly. “Yeah,” he said, watching Jayden’s facial expression go from a shy smile to a confident grin. He guessed that Jayden just got a confidence boost in himself, knowing that it was good, or satisfactory or whatever. “It was really nice.”

Jayden smirked slightly, wiggling his eyebrows. Harry tried to suppress a laugh. Really, he did. It was just the way Jayden looked in that moment. Luckily for Harry, Jayden laughed too. So it was meant to be a joke, and Harry wasn’t hurting his feelings by laughing. 

He tried to move, wincing at the slight burn as he moved his legs apart. He could’ve sworn lube was involved. He hadn’t felt like this since, well, ever. Maybe he should’ve asked for a little more lube, or maybe he should have prepped himself. Either way, nothing changed the feeling, so he grit his teeth and got out of bed, hobbling over ever so slightly. 

He leaned over, picking up his boxers first, slipping them over his ankles and pulling them up. He chuckled slightly at his jeans, pulled inside out and tossed across the room, but he managed to correct them and squeeze into the tight denim. He pulled his sweater over his head, rolling the sleeves up to his elbows. It was morning, it was going to get warmer, not at all like the chilly seafood restaurant they’d been in last night. He sighed, relaxing his shoulders. 

He turned back around, and Jayden was also dressed- but he was wearing fresh clothes, and Harry needed to go back to his flat before he changed. Which reminded him of an important detail he’d forgotten about- and he groaned. 

“Man, I forgot to tell Louis I was coming home last night,” he said, slightly frustrated with himself. Jayden arched a brow. “Louis?” He asked. 

“My flatmate,” Harry explained. “I told him I’d let him know when I was headed home and I didn't.” Jayden shrugged. “That’s fine,” he said. “Why does he care anyway?” 

Harry thought- and he couldn’t come up with an answer. Surprise, surprise. 

“Do you want breakfast?” Jayden asked. “I could order something, or we could eat out, or I could try and cook something for you. No guarantees, though,” he added with a laugh. Harry shrugged, smiling. “Just coffee or something would be fine, really,” he said. Jayden nodded, walking out of the bedroom. Harry stooped down, grabbing his shoes and socks, thrown towards opposite sides of the room. 

Jayden set the kettle on boil, watching Harry grab his coat and sit down at the table. “So,” he mused aloud, glancing over and locking eyes with Harry. “How do you like your coffee? Sweet? With cream?”

“Just a little sugar, no cream,” Harry answered, smiling brightly. “Thank you.” Jayden nodded. “So, I was thinking,” Jayden started, and Harry made sure to listen as he pulled his phone out of the pocket of his coat, turning it back on for the first time in over twelve hours. 

And instantly his eyes widened. He had so many notifications, ranging from two hours ago to three minutes ago, and even Louis messaging him throughout the night, making sure he was coming home. Harry winced slightly, kinda feeling sorry for Louis… whatever his relationship with him was now. He opened one from Liam, one of the more recent ones. His jaw dropped, reading all seventeen of them. 

**_H? where are u?_ **

**_we have recording, remember?_ **

**_Harry?_ **

**_Harry plz respond._ **

**_Louis said you didn’t come home last night, can you plz talk to us? you’re missing our recording session._ **

**_plz_ **

**_harry srsly u need to come to recording. michaels getting mad that ur not here already._ **

**_niall and zayn are recording their bits but you need to get here asap_ **

**_michael says we can’t postpone because the album is coming out in 2 months and they still need to produce it so this is one of the last days we’ll be able to record parts_ **

**_harry_ **

**_is ur phone off?_ **

**_nobody can reach you_ **

**_michaels called twice_ **

**_srsly what are u doing_ **

**_harry plz michaels getting mad and everyone’s worried abotu you_ **

**_pls_ **

alright i have to go in to record now but plz respond asap and come to record. louis just said you were out last night but i rlly hope that ur ok and you’ll be able to come soon. love you 

“Shit,” Harry said below his breath. Jayden’s head turned towards Harry again, furrowing his eyebrows together in confusion. “What is it?” He asked. Harry sighed nervously, tapping his fingers against the table rapidly. 

“I’m missing an important recording session,” he explained, his voice shaking with nerves. Fuck, now wasn’t the time to get anxious, but he didn’t know what to do. He was so fucking stupid sometimes. “How bad is it?” Jayden asked. Harry gulped. “I was supposed to be there two hours ago,” he answered. “My bandmate went in to record his parts three minutes ago, I’m next.”

“Well, shit,” Jayden said, ignoring the kettle and walking over to Harry. “Is there anything i could help with? I’ll drive you,” he added decidedly. Harry nodded, immediately getting up, making sure he grabbed all his things. He was still trying to keep himself as calm and collected as he possibly could. 

\--- 

Anxiety wasn’t something Harry had ever anticipated struggling with. Nobody wants to. But now that they were in a band, he constantly felt the pressure to just be perfect. He tried as hard as he could not to hit a wrong note. Ever. He was so scared of messing up that he literally rehearsed to the point of losing sleep so he’d never mess up. 

But this- this was a whole other level of fucking things up. 

Harry kept tapping his fingers on the dashboard of Jayden’s car as he drove Harry to the recording studio halfway across London. Liam had just finished recording, given his most recent message, but Louis was in the studio now, which gave Harry just a little more time to get there. 

He wished he’d woken up earlier. He wished he hadn’t slept with Jayden in the first place, if it meant that he wouldn’t have screwed it up. He didn’t want to be the cause of any problems to do with their album, and he didn’t want to start a delay. He’d just made one mistake. Surely there wouldn’t be major consequences because of that. 

“There it is,” he said, leaning forward in the seat and craning his neck to look at the familiar building. Jayden slowed, turning his car to pull up alongside the building. Harry took a deep breath, feeling relieved that he’d made it in time. 

“Hey,” Jayden said, the first word he’d spoken since they’d gotten in his car in the first place. Harry turned back around, plastering a nervous smile to his face. “Yeah,” he asked hopefully. Jayden smiled softly. “I asked earlier,” he began, “but I really like you. And I want to do this again. So, would you like to, you know, see each other again sometime?” He asked.

Harry smiled. “Yeah,” he answered. “That’d be nice.“ Jayden nodded, grinning as he leaned in for one last kiss, sealing his lips with Harry’s. Harry closed his eyes, feeling his fingers reaching for the handle of the door. He wasn’t going to waste any time. 

They broke apart, and Harry smiled. “Bye,” he said quickly, quietly, and Jayden watched as he left, “I’ll call you!” Harry waved, pulling open the tall glass doors of the recording studio and stepping inside the building. He checked in, which was easy. He was Harry Styles from One Direction; he didn’t even need identification to be let through. The band was what was making most of Syco’s money. Which made sense. Harry often wondered if that was the reason their managers were always so harsh with them. 

He navigated the hallways, almost out of breath. He made sure to breathe deeply, not wanting to trigger an asthma attack. That had happened before, and it was terrifying. 

He rounded the corner, opening the studio doors- and there everyone was (excluding Louis, who was standing inside of the booth, taking critique from their sound producers) sitting with their various drinks, staring at Harry. 

“There you are,” Liam said. “You had us worried for a minute.” 

“A minute?” Their manager, Paul, echoed in disbelief. He shook his head, glaring warningly towards Harry. “We won’t be able to accommodate this level of tardiness, Harry,” he told the teenager, gritting his teeth together. “There had better not be a next time.”

“Of course,” Harry promised frantically. “It was just a one time thing, I promise.” Their manager stared him down with a steely gaze, but he relented. “Fine,” he sighed. “But don’t think you’re just being let off the hook. We’re not going to be forgetting this. And if behavior like this is repeated, you’re going to be hearing from us again.” 

Harry nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said. Swallowing hard, he looked back at his friends, who were looking at him in an almost sympathetic way. Maybe there was a bit of amusement in the way they looked at him. Maybe they thought his stupidity was laughable. Maybe they thought he was laughable. Maybe they thought he was a joke. 

He sat down next to Niall, trying to catch his breath. The blonde boy arched his brow, pursing his lips. “So,” he said. “You ‘went out.’” Harry shrugged sheepishly, blushing. “Where’d you go?” Niall asked suggestively. 

“I went on a date,” Harry said. Niall’s eyes widened. “You’re joking,” Liam said, looking happy. Harry smiled, liking the sudden but positive attention he was getting from his friends. He nodded. “Do we know him?” Zayn asked. Harry shook his head. 

“No,” he answered. “S’ a blind date. Nick set it up. But it was nice,” he added quickly, sensing his friends’ inevitable questions. “I’m going to be calling him.” Liam smiled, raising his eyebrows. “So, I’m assuming you stayed the night,” he said, grinning cheekily. Harry blushed. 

“Styles, you dog!” Liam cried- right as Louis walked out of the studio. Harry briefly glanced up at Louis, just in time to see a short flash of hurt in his blue eyes. His smile faltered, and Harry realized that he was angry at that flash of hurt. What right did Louis have to be hurt? 

He didn’t get to feel hurt only when Harry was finally getting over it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working on transferring this... 8 chapters to go. Then the real fun starts.


	6. Chapter 6

The air in their flat was tense long after both Harry and Louis got home. Harry had been sitting on the couch, on the phone with Jayden when Louis came bursting into the house, clearly upset about something. Exactly what he was upset about was something that Harry had yet to figure out. He didn’t ask Louis right then, though. He was talking to Jayden, and they were trying to plan their second date. Harry wasn’t going to hang up on Jayden just to confront Louis. That would happen later. 

But they managed to plan it out. Harry would visit Jayden in a couple of days so they could watch a movie. Maybe he’d even stay the night again. He’d be sure to pack a change of clothes, if that was the case. He was ok with sleeping in the nude, but he didn’t want to put on soiled clothes as soon as he woke up in the morning. 

And while he’s excited at the prospect of the next date, Harry’s annoyed at Louis. He didn’t understand any of the logic behind it. 

Louis was the one to leave. He was the one who chose to ruin everything. That was the one thought running through Harry’s mind as he sat on the couch, brooding. Well, really, he was just sulking. He wanted answers, and Louis had gone straight to his room and closed the bathroom door and who knew how long he’d been in there. Harry could hear the steady rush of the shower. He hoped it was cold. He hoped that the hot water had run out and now Louis was left shivering beneath the icy stream of water beating down on him from the shower head. He wanted Louis to feel just as cold physically as he treated Harry outwardly. 

Harry drummed his fingers on his kneecaps, a melody playing through his head. He didn’t recognize it. Maybe that was good, maybe it was something new and he needed to write it out. He hummed along to the melody playing, imagining how it would sound with piano chords accompanying it, guitar riffs carrying the rhythm and the sound. He closed his eyes, letting himself get lost in the thought. 

He hadn’t written anything since the break up. His contributions to the album were concepts he’d written before or lyric changes to his friends’ songs. He knew it was supposed to be happy and all pop or whatever, but that wasn’t what he felt. He didn’t want to write about being happy if it was going to be a lie. Harry wasn’t that kind of artist. He didn’t want to write awful music that wasn’t honest. He wanted to write about his real emotions, but that wasn’t what his managers wanted for the album. They wanted songs that would sell and make the charts. So Harry could plaster on a fake smile for video shoots and live performances so long as it made the people in charge happy. 

He sighed, leaning into the back cushions of the couch. Vaguely, he heard a sound carried from the back of the apartment, and he pursed his lips. One the one hand, he was relieved. But at the same time, he was still mad. And curious. He was mad and wondering why the hell Louis was so upset that he went into the back as soon as he got home and took a damn forty minute shower. He tapped his fingers along the coffee table. 

This would be fun. 

Ten minutes later, Louis reappeared. His shirt clung to his wet skin and he held a towel to his hair, but he scowled. Clearly, the shower had taken no effect on his mood. He glowered at Harry.

“What the hell?” Harry asked, his voice cold and uninviting. Louis rolled, snorting derisively. “Seriously?” He asked, almost like he was making it a point to mock Harry. “You pull that sort of bullshit and you think I wouldn’t be mad?”

Harry arched a brow. “Excuse me?” He asked. Louis gave him a look. “You don’t get to come in _hours_ late and just let that fly by,” he explained. Harry sighed, rubbing his fingertips against his temples. “I didn’t expect that!” He cried, rising from the couch and walking across the room. “Besides, that barely matters, I got a warning.”

“You’re still being let off the hook,” Louis said. “Imagine if anyone of us went out and spent the night at a stranger’s house. We wouldn’t hear the end of it, but _no_ , Harry can get away with anything he wants.” 

Harry’s jaw dropped. “That doesn’t even matter in this situation!” He retorted. “It fucking matters!” Louis cried. “Why can’t you just accept that everyone loves you because you’re _you_ , but we still have to work so much harder. We don’t just get away with things. We can’t go sleeping with random people and arrive late and get a slap on the wrist as the bare minimum of punishment,” Louis spat.

Harry bit his lip. He almost tasted blood but he knew he had to bite back a scream as he glared baggers at the other boy. “I didn’t sleep with _random people,_ ” he seethed. “I know Jayden.” 

“For all of twelve hours,” Louis pointed out angrily. Harry curled his fists up into tight balls. “Yes,” he said. “But still, it was one person, he was not random, I know him, and we share a mutual friend. I would not and will not sleep with just anybody. So fuck you,” he added spitefully. 

Louis groaned, tugging at his hair with his hands. “Were you at least safe?” He asked. 

And Harry’s blood boiled. 

“What the fuck?” He asked quietly, trying to hold on to the remaining bits of his temper. “Why the hell would you want to know?”

“I’m looking out for you as a fucking friend, Haz, don’t get all pissy,” Louis said. Harry swallowed hard, in the last bit of calm before the storm. 

“We aren’t fucking friends!” Harry exploded. Louis looked equally surprised and hurt as Harry continued to shout, “I don’t know what we are but we are certainly not _mates_ ; we’re not _buddies_ . My romantic life has stopped being any of your business since the moment you decided to leave,” he finished coldly. 

Louis just stared at him. He didn’t glare. He barely even looked angry anymore. He just looked lost and hurt and confused. Good for him, Harry thought. Finally, Louis was in Harry’s shoes. 

With one more derisive snort, Harry turned on his heel and stormed out of the room. 

**July 23, 2010**

They were all lined up on stage. Harry could feel his heart beating against his chest as they all waited anxiously to hear if they’d gotten through. He felt hopeful, but at the same time, there was a hint of nagging in the back of his mind. Maybe he’d overestimated his own talent, and he wasn’t as good as he thought he was and everyone had just decided to play along to make it easier for him. 

The cameras zoomed around them, focusing in on their faces, their raw emotions displayed. It would probably make for a good bit of television, making the people watching at home sit on the edges of their seat as they watched select contestants get through while the others were sent back home. Harry bit his bottom lip, putting on as brave as a face as he could while he stood there, feeling so small up on stage next to the others. 

The judges all took their seats, and they glanced around at each other, nodding to make sure they were all prepared. “The first person through to the judge’s houses is,” Simon read, pausing for dramatic effect as he held the microphone up in front of his mouth, “John Wilding.”

Harry nodded, clapping as the other contestant buried his face in his hands, grinning as he walked off the stage and towards Dermot, disappearing to the left stage. Harry pursed his lips again. He still had a chance. He could still get through. 

“Nicolo Festa,” Nicole read. Harry nodded, and one by one, they were all read, and all of them walked off to hug Dermot as he congratulated them offstage. 

“Paije Rishardson.”

“Aiden Grimshaw.”

“Marlon McKenzie.”

“Carl Brown.”

“Matt Cardle.”

Harry could feel a lump in his throat forming as Simon read, “The final contestant who’s made it through,” pausing again. His heart beat against his chest, and every part of him wished it was his name on that paper in Simon’s hands. 

“Tom Richards,” Simon read. Harry’s heart sank and he barely even heard Simon speaking, “That’s it guys, really sorry,” before he was pulling off his beanie, walking off stage with heavy feet and tears blurring his vision. 

He watched as another boy hugged Dermot, who apologized in an effort to comfort him. Harry could hear him saying, “I just don’t wanna go home. I just don’t wanna go home.” 

A camera was practically forced into his face. Harry was taken aback, but he assumed they wanted a comment. So he sniffed. “I’m just really gutted,” he sighed, using his beanie to wipe at his eyes. 

\---

He had no energy. He just sat on the chair in front of the wall, waiting for his mum. He didn’t want to go all the way home by himself. He’d texted her a couple minutes ago, and she had yet to respond, but he would be fine. He’d just sit there until she came. 

“Hey, Curly,” he heard a voice say. He looked up. Louis stood in front of him, a soft smile to his lips. Harry tried to make himself smile. “Don’t worry,” Louis said, sitting down beside him, reaching out an arm to rub his back with. “It’s fine to feel sad.”

  
  


Harry nodded. “I just really hoped I’d get through,” he said. Louis nodded. “Me too,” he said. “But it’s not the end of the world. There’s always going to be more chances. You know, I saw another kid earlier. This is his second time being sent home,” Louis explained. Harry glanced up. Louis shrugged, pursing his lips. “This isn’t going to be your only chance to make it big, I promise,” he told Harry sincerely. “Thanks,” Harry murmured, wrapping his arms around Louis, hugging him. 

In any other circumstance, it would have been weird. Especially considering that Harry had known Louis for like, a day. But it just felt different. It felt natural. Like second nature. His arms fit perfectly around Louis’ shoulders, and Harry had never felt this elated from just a simple hug. 

The illusion was broken by a producer calling them over. “Hey,” he called. Harry and Louis looked over at him. “We’re grouping the boys together for an announcement. Come on.” The two boys looked at each other, both equally as curious as each other. They got up, and Harry walked a little further ahead, wondering what the hell was going on. 

They all stood near one another. A couple of the boys already had their suitcases nearby, others had their jackets on, like they were prepared to leave before they were called over. Harry pulled his beanie snugly over his head, nestling his curls under the knit fabric. 

“Will the following contestants please return to the stage?” A producer called, holding a clipboard in his hands. Harry’s breath hitched. 

What was this? He felt a creeping sense of doubt in the back of his mind, hoping he wasn’t going to have it rubbed in his face that he was being sent home for the sake of good television. 

“Zayn Malik,” the producer read. Harry looked behind himself as a boy in a purple and black shirt stepped forward, looking nervous. 

“Liam Payne.” 

A puppy-eyed boy’s breathing stilled. 

“Harry Styles.”

And Harry buried his face in his hands, rubbing at his cheeks. He didn’t know what to think, he didn’t know what the hell he was going to do. All he knew was that _his name was called and he was going back onstage._

“Niall Horan.”

A blonde boy cursed under his breath. 

“And Louis Tomlinson,” the producer read. Louis turned to Harry, his blue eyes shining with a mix of confusion and curiosity. He bit his nails, nervously following the producer. Harry looked over his shoulder, feeling sympathetic towards the people who hadn’t been called. 

They all headed back towards the stage, passing Dermot, who smiled and waved, and walking up the stairs. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see a group of four girls also walking towards the stage. They were holding hands. On instinct, Harry wrapped his arm around the blonde boy, Niall. The other boy was too nervous to mind. They all stood like that, huddled together in a line with their arms wrapped around each other. 

“Hello,” Nicole said softly. “Thank you so much for coming back; I know, judging from some of your faces, this is really hard.” Harry nodded, cupping his own hand around his jaw. “We’ve thought of each of you as individuals and just thought you were too talented to let go of,” Nicole explained. Harry’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He turned to share a look with Louis, who was just as confused as he was. “We think it would be a great idea to have two separate groups,” Nicole went on, smiling slightly. 

Harry felt his heart skip a beat. He knew where she was headed, but he needed the confirmation so, so badly-

“We’ve decided to put you both into groups,” Simon finished for her. 

He didn’t have to say anything more. Everyone was already screaming by the time that he’d finished his sentence. Louis ran to Harry, jumping into his arms, and in his excitement, Harry caught him, nuzzling into him.

It felt like time had stopped. It was perfect. 

“Guys, guys,” Simon called, breaking the magic of the moment. They all turned as he continued, “Girls. This is a lifeline. You have got to work ten, twelve, fourteen hours a day, every single day, and take this opportunity. You’ve got a real shot here, guys” he added, smiling. 

Harry smiled widely, squeezing the sides of his newfound friend. 

Suddenly, the worst moment of his life had turned into one of the best. 


	7. Chapter 7

**August 2010**

Harry had come to the conclusion that after nearly a month of knowing Louis, and having spent a week and a half living in the same house as him, that he was completely smitten with the other boy. Heads over heels and everything. 

And the feeling was nothing new. Harry had felt like this before, about some other people. But it had never felt this strong. Like all he could think about was Louis. All he wanted to do was be alone with Louis, even though that got in the way of their plans to rehearse. And they had to go to the judge’s house in Spain soon, so practice was essential. But all Harry wanted to do was think about Louis and how his blue eyes glimmered in the sunlight, or how his soft fringe fell over those sapphire eyes, and how the corners of his lips curled up into such a friendly smile that Harry melted all over again. 

He was like a lovesick puppy. 

It was to such an extent that Liam called him out on it during practice. Not Harry’s crush, per se, none of the boys had really picked up on that yet (as far as Harry knew anyways) but his distracted gaze, definitely. This state of mind had dragged on long enough, and Liam was determined to make it past the judge’s house this time. He was kinda the leader so far. He had the most stage presence, so it made sense to the boys. Besides, Harry was literally told that he wasn’t confident enough by the judges, so maybe they’d be better off with someone else as a leader. Niall and Zayn seemed happy enough to let Liam take charge (for now) but Louis and Liam kept butting heads. It was a little tiring, if Harry was honest, but they’d get past it eventually. Hopefully. 

“Come on, Harry,” Liam sighed. Harry turned back towards the circle of the other four boys. Liam had just reminded him to come in-  _ again- _ when it was his time to sing, but he missed his cue. He flushed with embarrassment, just wishing the ground would swallow him up. “We’ve got to work together,” Liam said, and Harry nodded, his smile faltering. Louis frowned. 

“Give it a rest,” he said. “We could use a break, we’ve been going at it for hours.” Harry looked over at Liam, who sat there, staring at Louis in shock. He glanced down, shifting slightly as he took a breath. “Wel, lads,” he said, turning to the other boys. “Do you feel like taking a break?” Niall nodded right away; Zayn nodded more slowly, and with a sheepish smile to his lips. Liam sighed, but he nodded. “Fine,” he said. “We’ll take ten minutes.” 

Louis arched a brow, but said nothing, letting his sharp tongue remain quiet for once. Harry smiled, almost losing himself in his thoughts again. Louis turned towards Harry, smiling to himself. “So,” he mused, “wanna go outside?” Harry just nodded, staring straight at Louis. He followed him outside. It was hot and muggy, but he didn’t care. 

“Man,” Louis sighed, stretching his arms out. He heard the crack of tight joints and he let out a sound of relief, and Harry smiled, amused. “I swear, if Liam doesn’t stop being so- well, you know,” he said, a knowing glance aimed towards Harry, “I’m gonna scream.” 

Harry shrugged. “I think he’s just worried,” he offered. Louis nodded. “I get that,” he said. “But all of us are. What is gonna help is keeping us relaxed. If we’re too high strung then we’re gonna worry ourselves half to death, and then we’re definitely not getting past the judge’s house,” He finished. 

“Maybe you and Liam should just talk,” Harry said. “Maybe if you stopped arguing and tried to talk- calmly,” he added, “then you could reach an agreement.” 

“Ok,” Louis said. “I’ll try. But if it goes wrong that’s not on me,” he said, chuckling slightly. Harry nodded, happy that he managed to convince Louis to talk to the other boy at the very least. He watched Louis’ figure relax, rolling his shoulder back to loosen the joints in his arms. He sighed, breathing in the evening air. Harry smiled at him. 

“So Haz,” Louis said. Harry nodded, inching closer to him on the bench. “Yeah?” Harry asked, blushing at the nickname. Louis smirked, showing a hint of his charming, toothy grin as he looked over at Harry. He had a slight look of amusement on his face, although there was a hint of intrigue and curiosity to that as well. Harry couldn’t help but glance down at his feet, trying desperately to hide how flushed his cheeks were. “Nothing,” Louis answered. “Just thinking.” 

“About what?” Harry asked. Louis shrugged. “Nothing much,” he answered. “You don’t really have to ever be thinking about one specific thing, right?” He asked, looking up at the darkening sky. “Yeah,” Harry said. He'd never really thought about it that much before. 

“Have you got a girlfriend?” Louis asked suddenly. Harry went still. He swallowed; his throat had gone dry. “Or a boyfriend?” Louis added quickly. “Whichever you’re into, I guess.” Harry shook his head. “Not right now,” he said. “But I have had them in the past. Boyfriends and girlfriends, I mean,” he added awkwardly. 

Louis nodded, smiling. “Well, they’re sure missing out on something great right about now, huh?” He asked, but Harry didn’t know how to answer that. He wasn’t sure if it was an acknowledgement- or a compliment, even. 

“What about you?” Harry asked, propping his elbow up on the lawn table. Louis shrugged. “I’ve had girlfriends,” he answered. “I don’t know if I like boys.”

“You might,” Harry said hopefully. And if that wasn’t obvious enough, the way his eyes flickered down to Louis’ soft pink lips (even if it was just for one moment) was a sure sign. Louis looked over at him, pursing his lips, and Harry could feel his heart racing as the blue eyed boy moved closer towards him. 

And holy shit, Harry wasn’t sure if Louis was about to do what Harry thought he was about to do and Harry wasn’t even sure if  _ he _ was ready for this, and maybe he didn’t want to kiss Louis if there was still a slight chance he didn’t like boys, but he still wanted to, so, so badly-

“Hey, lads!” Niall called. Harry’s attention was snapped back to the open door, where Niall leant on the door frame, grinning as he waved for them to come back inside. “Your mum’s got cake, Harry!”

Harry smiled, sighing in relief as he turned back towards Louis. The older boy seemed slightly frustrated, but he shook his head, chuckling. “C’mon then,” he said with a grin. “Let’s go see your mum’s cake.” Harry nodded, following in Louis’ footsteps as they walked back into the house. 

And he couldn’t help but feel just a little bit mad that he hadn’t gotten to kiss Louis then. 

**Present Day.**

Harry didn’t feel like there were enough words to describe how mad he was at Louis. 

Honestly, Louis was older but he was acting like the child in this situation. He somehow believed he had the right to be angry at Harry for doing the exact same thing Louis had done so many months ago- move on. And then, when Harry pointed out how irrational Louis had been, he just decided that he was the one who was going to give Harry the cold shoulder. 

He was impossible to deal with. 

Harry tried to ignore- and that worked for a while. Until Louis caught on and decided to make it an obvious point that he was still angry at Harry. And for what? Nearly missing recording? Their album would be released soon enough, it wasn’t like it would have caused any long term damage to the production of the album. But Harry knew that Louis wasn’t just mad because he’d nearly screwed up the schedule- even Modest! didn’t care enough to be mad at Harry for long. He was just angry to see Harry finally getting over his wallowing and self-pity. 

Why did Louis get to be the only one out of the two who could be happy, according to the  _ perfect _ logic of his  _ perfect _ mind? 

And Harry wished he could rant about it to somebody. He wished  _ desperately _ that he could just scream out his problems and let it all come flooding out. 

But he knew he couldn’t. 

Not with his bandmates- they wouldn’t understand, and even if they did, they had more to worry about than this stupid drama. 

Not with Gemma or his mum- they’d already dealt with enough of Harry’s emotional baggage post breakup, he didn’t need to pile anything else onto their busy plates.

Not even Jayden- Harry couldn't bring himself to explain everything that went down with him and Louis. Not yet. He wouldn’t know how to even bring that up around Jayden. 

And speaking of Jayden, their relationship was still a little… unexplained. 

They were dating. Sort of. They’d been on dates, but there was no label on it yet. So, they were actively dating each other while simultaneously choosing not to acknowledge that. Harry spent a couple nights over at Jayden’s. It was nicer to share a bed than to sleep alone again. Jayden had yet to visit Harry’s flat, but they’d get there when the time came. 

Right now, they just enjoyed being around each other. And that was all Harry had wanted for so long. A real connection with someone, someone who would comfort you and hold you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you fell asleep. 

So Harry spent time with Jayden because it made him feel happy again. 

After a couple weeks, Harry found himself at the other man’s flat again, sitting on the blue suede couch and watching a movie with him. It was some action flick Harry had seen before, but he was too polite to say otherwise. So he just let his gaze drift across the room. 

Their shoes were lined up by the door. Harry hadn’t noticed that before, but his trainers were lined up next to Jayden’s loafers, and it looked like a picture. It looked like it was supposed to be fitting and homely, but Harry couldn’t help but feel that it was almost like two puzzle pieces had been fitted together even though they weren’t a match. Jayden’s shoes looked polished and brand new, and Harry’s had specks of mud and paint and whatever the hell those dark stains were. 

He sighed, leaning into Jayden’s shoulder. Maybe that could be a topic of conversation for them to bond over, or just something for Harry to think about when he couldn’t sleep. Jayden’s fingers curled around Harry’s shoulder, rubbing circles around the joint and easing the tension there. 

Harry looked back up at the television just in time to see a huge explosion displayed across the glass screen, and he winced. Action movies were not the kind of “date” movie. Harry wouldn’t have chosen it, personally. Slower, more romantic movies were the kind of things he wanted to watch on a date. He couldn’t help but smile as he thought about curling up with a bowl of popcorn, a blanket draped over his legs while he sat curled up in the arms of a lover. 

But that was a memory. Not the present. And yeah, he needed to get over it, because these memories couldn’t be his only bit of happiness forever. 

He curled up into Jayden a little more, and he could sense the other man’s attention turn away from the film and towards Harry, as he began to nuzzle into Harry’s neck and press soft kisses to the exposed skin. 

Harry had a feeling that this had slowly turned into yet another night he would spend at Jayden’s. But at least he didn’t have any promises to uphold this time around. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How’s everyone’s day?


	8. Chapter 8

The headboard moved with the bed, inching forward a tiny bit each time Harry thrusted into Jayden. He had his hands placed behind the other man’s shoulders, and Jayden's legs were hooked around his waist. Jayden had his arms wrapped around Harry’s shoulders, his fingernails digging into Harry’s shoulder blades. Harry grit his teeth, slowing his pace a bit. 

This was a first. He’d been fucked before, but this was the first time he’d ever been on top, and he was a little anxious. He didn’t even know what was causing the weird sense of pressure that made him feel this need to perform well. He kept his hips aligned with Jayden’s, listening to skin slapping against skin, the low moans that escaped Jayden's lips. 

It just felt so  _ tight _ . Harry hadn’t imagined it would feel so hot either. But his sweaty chest was pressed up against Jayden’s as their bodies rocked with each other, and it felt hot and euphoric and almost indescribable. Harry felt like this sense of overwhelming pleasure was something he would’ve earned after all his hard work. Not the sex, mind you, but the feeling that separated fantasy from reality and somehow felt so alert and real. 

There was something weird about being in control of the pace and the drag, and Harry loved it, but at the same time, he wasn’t sure he preferred it. His hips moved erratically, and he clearly had no clue what he was doing. Jayden didn’t seem to mind, though. He kept emitting little noises and gasps, so Harry must’ve been doing something right. It wasn’t nearly as familiar a feeling it had been when he was being held, fingers wrapped around his waist and nails digging into his hips, softly enough that the skin wouldn’t be broken. 

This was something else. It was rough and raw and quick and Harry wasn’t sure how much longer he would last. 

His hips jerked forward as he pounded into Jayden’s tight heat, and the taller man clenched around him, and Harry came undone. He tried his best to keep up his pace, but he moaned loudly, his hips stuttering to a halt. He took a breath, glancing back up and locking eyes with Jayden again. He tried thrusting again, almost apologetically, but Jayden shook his head. “Don’t worry,” he said breathlessly, reaching down and wrapping a hand around his own hard on. 

“Please,” Harry said, slowly pulling out of Jayden. “I wanna return the favor.” Jayden arched a brow, but he said nothing, watching as Harry moved back, positioning himself between his legs. He dropped down to his elbows, wrapping his fingers around Jayden’s length and pumping a steady rhythm. 

Harry looked up at Jayden as he wrapped his lips around the head of Jayden’s cock. The other man sighed in satisfaction, reaching a hand to tug at Harry’s curls as he threw his head back, reeling in the pleasure. “Fuck,” he murmured. 

Harry bobbed his head up and down on Jayden’s cock, expertly sucking at the underside. He opened up his throat, easing more into the back of his mouth. Jayden was moaning again, not bothering with his self-censoring anymore. Harry took this as a sign of praise, and he felt oddly happy. 

Suddenly, Jayden thrusted sharply. Harry almost choked, gagging around Jayden. He spluttered for a minute, trying to catch his breath. He’d done this before, but at least there was warning beforehand. 

Jayden didn’t seem to pay any attention to Harry, throwing his head back and moaning. Harry breathed through his nose, opening up his throat and sucking hard, spreading the saliva around Jayden’s cock. He thrusted into Harry’s mouth, practically fucking his throat, which would certainly feel sore in the morning. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, feeling tears pricking the back of his eyes, not from pain or even sadness, just overstimulation, or at least he guessed as much. 

“Shit, babe,” Jayden tried. “You take it so well, your lips were made for sucking cock.” Harry took Jayden down deeper than before, and he could feel Jayden coming down his throat, painting it white. He pulled Harry’s curls tight as Harry swallowed around him, making a face as the bitter substance went down his throat. 

“Fuck,” Jayden cried. Harry curled back up next to him, and he rested his head on the man’s chest as Jayden. “Your mouth is magic, Haz.”

Harry froze up; a shudder ran down his spine at the mention of that nickname. 

“Thanks,” he said awkwardly, laughing it off. He smiled up at Jayden, whose fingers were on Harry’s skin again, tracing the outline of his tattoos, but he was a little rattled at the sudden nickname. 

Why now? And why did it have to be that? Of all the nicknames in the world, why did it have to be that?

“When’d you get your first tattoo?” Jayden asked, clearly unaware of Harry’s rapidly beating heart. “Oh,” Harry said. “Few months ago, actually.” Jayden’s eyebrows raised. “Really?” He asked. Harry nodded, shrugging. “You have a lot,” Jayden murmured, propping himself up on his elbow as he looked over Harry’s inked skin. 

“Yeah,” Harry grinned, wiggling his brows. “Like what you see?” He chuckled. Jayden stifled a laugh. “I sure do,” he said, making Harry blush. He reached out again, looking at Harry’s many tattoos. “What’s this one?” He asked, trailing his index finger over the  _ 17BLACK _ design. Harry smiled, holding back the memory. “It’s just random, I guess,” he answered quietly. Jayden nodded, looking over at the others. 

“ _ Won’t stop ‘til we surrender, _ ” Jayden read, smiling. “Some pretty strong fighting words.” Harry tried to stifle back the memories and stories as Jayden went on, “ _ I can’t change _ . What’s that one for?”

Harry shrugged. “It’s pretty self explanatory, innit?” He asked. “I’m never changing who I am for anyone.” 

“Sweet,” Jayden said. “Yeah,” Harry laughed nervously, trying to shift the conversation. He could feel a pit opening up in the bottom of his stomach. Honestly, he hadn’t ever had anyone look at his tattoos and question the meaning of them before. Or at least, nobody ever had to ask because they already knew the full story. 

“Hey,” Jayden said, trying to catch his attention. Harry looked over, smiling. “Can we talk about us for a minute?” Jayden asked nervously, a flash of concern in his amber eyes. “Sure,” Harry said. “What about?” 

And then it hit him. He felt a little stupid, like he should have seen it coming, but if he was honest, the talk of relationships was one he’d been hoping to avoid. He just wanted it to be simple. 

“I wanted to talk about where we’re going,” Jayden said bluntly. Harry stared at him, thinking hard. They’d been “going out” for weeks at this point, so yeah, they needed to address it. 

“I don’t want to have a casual relationship,” Jayden said. “I’m not judging if that’s what you want, but it’s not for me.” Harry nodded. “Yeah, I get that,” He said. “I wanted something serious, too.”

Jayden smiled. “I like you a lot,” he admitted. Harry could barely breathe as he went on, “I’d really, really love to be with you, if you give me the chance.” He shifted, looking Harry up and down. “So,” he said, smiling hopefully. “Would you consider it?” 

Harry hesitated. Jayden’s smile faltered. “You ok?” He asked Harry. The green eyed boy shook his head, taking a minute. “Don’t worry, it’s not you,” Harry promised. He swallowed hard. “I guess I’m a little scared,” he admitted. “The last time I was in a long term relationship it took me so long to feel ok again. 

Jayden nodded sympathetically. “How long were you with them?” He asked. 

“A little over a year,” Harry said. “And I was sure that he was the one.” Jayden nodded. “Was he your first?” He asked. Harry nodded. “I just felt so- I dunno-  _ infatuated _ with him, I guess,” he explained. “I thought that we were going to be together forever. I loved him,” he admitted. He winced, feeling a twinge of regret as soon as the words escaped his lips. This probably wasn’t the most appropriate thing to talk about right after Jayden asked him to be his boyfriend, but the taller man seemed understanding. 

“And then it just ended,” Harry explained. “Just like that. There weren’t even any warnings- he just decided he was done one day, I guess. I felt so sick,” he added. “I couldn’t stay in the same room as him. And I couldn’t stop feeling that way. It’s, like, nothing I would do could make me feel happy again. I felt like I was never going to be happy again.”

“Man,” Jayden said sympathetically. “I’m sorry.” 

Harry shook his head. “S’ not your fault. I got over it,” he lied. Although, it wasn’t really a lie. For the most part, he believed it wasn’t a lie. “It just messed me up. I want to be- well, for lack of a better word, normal,” Harry explained. “I want to be able to have regular relationships without being scared.”

“Aww, baby,” Jayden said, reaching out to cup Harry’s face. “You don’t have to be scared of me. I’m not going to break your heart,” he said, and it sounded like a promise.” 

Harry smiled. “I’m sorry for piling all of this on you,” he said. “You shouldn’t have to deal with any of this, it’s in the past-”

“Please,” Jayden said. “I just want to be with you. And I want to help you,” he added. “And if it helps you to talk about it, I’m all ears.” Harry nodded, smiling softly. He sat up, leaning across the bed and pressing his lips against Jayden’s. 

“Thank you,” he said softly. Jayden smiled, his warm amber eyes radiating comfort and happiness. “Well,” he said. “Is it ok to ask something?” Harry nodded. 

“Did he tell you why he broke up with you?” Jayden asked. 

Harry could feel his heart miss a beat. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said. “Sorry, it’s just… you know,” he trailed off. Jayden nodded. “No, don’t worry,” he said. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t think-”

Harry shook his head. “No, it’s fine,” he said. “It just hurts. I don’t want to think about him right now.” 

“Ok,” Jayden said. “We don’t ever have to talk about him. I promise,” he said, and Harry believed him. “Thanks,” he said softly. “Anything else?” 

“Yeah,” Jayden said. “Am I better than him?” Harry laughed, happy to ease the tension in the room. He’d begun to slip back into his sad and lonely headspace, but it was comforting to know that he could still find amusement in the little things. 

“S’ hard to say,” he answered. “I was with him once. I’ve been with you loads more times,” he explained, winking cheekily. “I can’t compare that.” Jayden shrugged. “Well then,” he said. 

Harry sighed in content, curling up into the warmth of Jayden’s chest.

It was little moments like these that he’d missed. And he could feel his heart getting all fluttery whenever he was around Jayden, and maybe that was a sign. He just wanted to be held, and he liked Jayden. He really liked him. 

And if that wasn’t the surest sign, Harry didn’t know what was. Attraction didn’t have to have a reason. Sometimes it could just be there, and maybe that's reason enough. 

“So,” he mused, his voice drawling. He could feel scratchiness in the back of his throat, and his words came out raspier than normal. “Should you meet my friends soon?” Jayden’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why?” He asked. 

Harry shrugged. “Don’t you think I should introduce my boyfriend to them?” He asked. Jayden’s jaw dropped, and Harry panicked, quickly adding, “I mean, I thought that was what you were talking about- if you don’t want to that’s fine-”

Jayden cut him off with a kiss to the lips. Harry’s eyes widened, but he smiled against Jayden’s lip, closing them softly. “I’d love that,” Jayden whispered, like a secret. Harry smiled. “Well, then,” he said, rolling over and sitting up over Jayden. He hooked a leg over the waist of his boyfriend, straddling his lap and leaning in close to his ear. 

“Up for round two?”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve missed everyone comments- how are you doing?


	9. Chapter 9

Harry smiled as he sat at the table. Liam sat at the head of the table, Niall and Zayn sat across from Harry, and then there was Louis. He sat opposite from Liam, slumped in his seat. It was very clear that he didn’t want to be there. Harry practically had to drag his ass to the restaurant in the first place. He’d barely spoken a word, and when he did speak, it was just to complain. 

It was too cold here. The floor was sticky. Louis didn’t even like Thai food. 

It was exhausting. 

Harry felt like he was watching a child sulking instead of a twenty year old man. Almost twenty one, actually. Louis had argued. He’d fought with Harry endlessly. It was childish how Louis refused to shut up or stop finding reasons not to go meet Jayden. Harry had to literally fashion his whole plan around Louis and his relentless complaintments. He’d picked the restaurant, which was a place that wasn’t so popular that they would be recognized, but public enough that Louis wouldn’t dare to start a fight with Harry in the middle of the restaurant. Nobody had objected (besides Louis, obviously) so long as paid. Harry was happy that his friends wanted to meet Jayden, but Louis was a whole other story. 

_ “Why should I have to meet your new boyfriend?” He’d asked when Harry had asked him to come with the others to meet Jayden. They’d been in the middle of a heated argument for a few minutes, and Louis had reached his boiling point. Harry bit down on his bottom lip angrily, his blood boiling.  _

_ “Because you made it a point that I know your girlfriend,” Harry spat. “I have to sit down every time and watch you two, and so help me, you can sit through lunch with Jayden and I. The boys will be there too, so stop pretending like it’s the end of the fucking world.”  _

Harry stared at Louis cooly, sipping his water through his straw. This might have been the first time he’d won one of their arguments, and he was very, very smug about it. He felt like he was milking out the feeling of success, and he liked it. 

“So, H,” Niall said, sitting up and pulling his chair in. “How is Jayden? What’s he like?” He mused, raising his eyebrows. Harry chuckled, smiling. “Well, he’s tall,” he started. “How tall? Like you?” Niall asked. Harry shook his head. “Taller than me,” he said, and Niall laughed. Harry watched Louis sighing in the corner of his eye. 

“He’s fit, too,” Harry said, glancing over at Louis, waiting for his reaction. “And sweet. He makes me cookies when I go over to his flat.”

“Aww, that’s sweet,” Zayn said. Harry blushed. “I know,” he said. “He’s good to me.”

“Sounds nice,” Louis muttered, glaring daggers down at his feet. Harry nodded, unsure of how he should take that. Was it a compliment or a threat? Just the way Louis presented his body language screamed that he was angry, but there was a strange and almost sad look in his eyes. Harry shook his head. No, Louis couldn’t be sad. He was so happy when it ended, wasn’t he.

“Jayden’s a lucky man,” Zayn announced. Harry smiled. “Thanks,” he said. Harry didn’t know if Jayden felt lucky, but he knew that he certainly felt happy with him. Besides, it wasn’t like he was lucky for “scoring” Jayden, or whatever. He wouldn’t change a thing about their relationship. They were happy, and that was all that mattered. 

“Where do you see things going with him?” Zayn asked curiously. Harry’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?” He asked. Zayn shrugged. “Just, like, do you see yourselves being in a long term thing?”

“I- I don’t know,” Harry admitted, feeling his heart sink into the pit of his stomach. 

He felt like he’d just been put on the spot. And he’d told the truth, he didn’t know. They’d gotten together a week ago. They’d been dating for a month, maybe a month and a half. They weren’t supposed to be thinking about getting serious yet, right? It wasn’t like they were going to talk about moving in with each other immediately, or their future, like even getting  _ married _ one day. That wasn’t something people did. They waited to even talk about things like that. 

Zayn frowned. “Well, I just wanted to know if you plan to stay with him, and he’s not, like a rebound or something. Same with him,” he clarified. “I don’t want you to be mistreated; I don’t want you to be mistreating. I’m just looking out for you.”

“We’re doing well,” Harry said. “Nobody’s-  _ mistreating _ anybody,” he said uncomfortably. “I thought I said that.” He swallowed hard. “And I don’t need a rebound.”

The air became thick with tension, and nobody really knew what to say. Harry wished he could go back in time and divert the situation away. But nothing was going to take away the sinking feeling that came with knowing that none of his friends were actually taking this new relationship seriously, if they really thought Jayden was just a rebound- which he wasn’t. He was sweet, and kind, and Harry liked him a lot. Maybe he wasn’t sure if he was in love yet, but there was definitely time for that. He was not going to take things too quickly this time, and he certainly was not going to fall down into a hole he couldn’t dig himself out of again. At least this time, he had faith that Jayden was not going to leave him.

And speak of the devil, Jayden came in at the exact right moment, saving Harry from the awkwardness of the whole situation. Harry immediately smiled, putting on his happy face. 

“Hey,” he cried, grinning as he walked towards Jayden. The taller man smiled, wrapping his arms around Harry, and Harry pressed his lips against his boyfriend’s. The kiss was discreet- sincere, but brief, mindful of the people watching. He didn’t want to be judged any further. 

“Hey!” Niall called, forever being the friendliest out of the five of them. He extended a hand for Jayden to shake. “Niall Horan. S’ nice to meet ya,” he grinned. Jayden smiled. “You too,” he said. “I’m really glad to get to know you all.”

Harry smiled warmly. “There’s Liam, and Zayn,” he said, pointing at each of them. He hesitated for a minute as Louis glanced up at him. Either Harry was going to introduce him, which would be awkward, or Louis would introduce himself, which was something Harry did not want. Contact always led to conflict, and the last thing he wanted to watch was his ex boyfriend having a fight with his current boyfriend. “And there’s Louis,” he said quickly. 

“Nice,” Jayden said. “Obviously, I’m Jayden.” 

“So, what do you do?” Liam asked, smiling warmly. Jayden nodded. “I’m a guitarist,” he explained. “I do gigs and stuff, and maybe one day I’ll play for a band or something, like yours.”

“Oh, we should do that!” Liam cried. Jayden chuckled, shaking his head. “Thanks, but no thanks. My schedule is pretty booked, and Harry’s told me that you’re going on tour next year. Plus, haven’t you got a guitarist already?” He asked, arching a brow. 

“Oh, yeah,” Liam said bashfully, “I just thought-” 

“No, don’t worry,” Jayden laughed. “I’m flattered, really. Thanks for breaking the ice, that’s always awkward,” he said. Liam nodded. “I know,” he said. “I’ll always go on about something stupid, like football.” 

“Oh, I love footie!” Jayden exclaimed, smiling as he reminisced about memories he’d told Harry about, when he’d shown Harry pictures of himself on his school’s team when he was little . Harry smiled, sitting back in his chair and relaxing. They’d found common ground. Things would be alright. 

“Did you ever play?” Louis asked suddenly. Harry felt a nervous jolt. Of course he’d enter the conversation when it was most convenient for himself. Jayden nodded. “Yeah, on my school’s team,” he said, grinning goofily. “Have you?”

Louis sat up. “Yeah, I played with my friends a bit. Never was on a team, though,” he added, sounding… wistful? “Still play around a bit. Maybe you and I could play around sometime, if you wanted that.” 

“Yeah, that sounds cool,” Jayden said, smiling. 

Harry kept glancing in between the two men, very, very confused. He was happy, but confused. He didn’t know why Louis was making an effort to be (was nice the word?) to Jayden, but he wasn’t upset. He was happy, if anything, but he had questions. 

They talked about footie for nearly fifteen minutes. The other boys joined in, too, but mostly it was Louis and Jayden, much to Harry’s surprise. Harry was the one who ordered for them, and they all took turns picking out what they wanted to eat, and although Harry took note that Louis ordered the single most expensive item on the menu, he didn’t care. Louis wasn’t causing a fuss, he’d pay for it if he had to. 

“So, Louis, you’re roommates with Haz, right?” Jayden asked. Harry watched Louis’ breath hitch for a minute when Jayden said  _ Haz _ . “Yeah,” he said. “He sleeps down the hall from me. We used to cuddle and stuff when we were dating, but you know, shit changes.” 

Harry’s heart skipped a beat. He glanced over at Jayden quickly, just in time to see the slight twitch of his eyebrows, and a flash in his eyes. He looked directly at Harry, eyes pleading with him- and Harry could only bring himself to stare right back. There wasn’t really any point in trying to deny it, was there?

“Dessert? Anyone?”

\---

_ “HE’S YOUR EX?!” _

Harry winced. Even at the low volume that Jayden hissed those words out at, it stung. The worst part was that Jayden wasn’t trying to hurt Harry, it just happened. He was confused, and a little scared even. 

“I’m sorry-”

Jayden held up a hand to keep Harry from speaking. He sank down into the blue couch, trying to process the information. After lunch (which had been incredibly awkward after what Louis said; nobody really knew how to continue afterwards and Harry felt himself trying to put a patch on a bigger tear than he was able to salvage) they went straight to Jayden’s apartment. The ride there had the same atmosphere as the Thai restaurant- awkward and tense. Neither Harry nor Jayden spoke a word. Harry was too nervous to speak, and Jayden- well, Harry wasn’t sure. All he knew was that Jayden gripped the steering wheel so tightly that the knuckles of his tanned hands went pale, and he glowered at the traffic in front of them. 

Looking at him now, Jayden sighed suddenly, rising up from the couch. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked. Harry’s jaw dropped. “I tried,” he protested. Jayden shook his head. “I’ve known he was your roommate, I’ve known you’ve had an ex- couldn’t bother to tell me that you're still friends with him?” He asked skeptically. “That’s not trying, babe.”

“I’m not friends with him,” Harry seethed. 

“You’re fucking living with him!” Jayden yelled. “You’re fucking living in the same flat as he is, and you couldn’t have told me that?” Harry swallowed hard. “It’s complicated,” he said. “We were still dating when we moved in together, I pay half of the rent, there isn’t a reason that I shouldn’t be allowed to stay there. It’s my home, too.”

“He’s your ex, Haz,” Jayden drawled, snorting derisively as if it was obvious that he was correct. “People don’t live with their exes. Not when you’ve kissed them, and been intimate with them.” His face faltered. “Shit- he was your first, wasn’t he?”

Harry hesitated, sighing. “Yeah,” he admitted. “So? 

Jayden stared at him blankly. “You lost your virginity to  _ him _ ,” he said. “I can’t measure up to that. I can’t even-”

“Oh, shut it,” Harry snapped. Jayden looked surprised as Harry continued, “It’s my body and I decide who I fuck, ok? It doesn’t matter if I slept with him or anyone else. Besides, I don’t care that he took my virginity. You don’t get to be jealous of him because of that,” he finished. 

“But you loved him- you were  _ ‘infatuated’ _ with him,” Jayden said, quoting Harry exactly. Harry rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t because he took my virginity. And I  _ loved _ him. Past tense. Not anymore,” he said. “You have my heart, not him.”

Jayden stayed quiet, and Harry sighed, walking over to sit beside his boyfriend. “Jay, I’m with you. I ‘m not the kind of person that strays- I make a commitment and I stick to it,” he explained. “I’m in a relationship with you- I love you,” he blurted out, not even realizing what he said. Jayden turned sharply to look at him, his lips parted. 

“You do?” He asked, eyes softening. Harry’s eyes widened, not even realizing what he’d said until then. Slowly, he nodded. “Yeah,” he said breathlessly. “I do. You’re my boyfriend and I love you. So, please, stop comparing yourself to Louis. I’m with you now. You make me happy. So, please,” he added, reaching for Jayden’s hand, “can we just put this behind us? I’m sorry that I kept this from you.”

Jayden smiled softly. “Ok,” he said. “I love you too.” Harry grinned, feeling his heart melt inside of his chest. He blushed, leaning in to connect his lips with Jayden’s. “Are we good?” Harry asked. Jayden nodded. “Yeah,” he murmured against Harry’s lips. 

  
  



	10. Chapter 10

**September 2010.**

There might have been the slightest chance that Harry was upset- maybe even  _ angry- _ with Louis. Not that he took pleasure in the feeling, it was very weird, as a matter of fact, to feel anger towards Louis in any amount. But the one time he sided with Liam, the first time he decided that they should probably practice if they wanted to advance past the first live show, and that would involve less goofing off, which, sadly, meant less time laughing and joking around with Louis. And that’s pretty much what Harry had told Louis when Liam was trying to get them all singing in their own parts. 

And what had Louis’ response been? Silence. 

He’d shut up almost immediately, clearly more than a little peeved at Harry’s input in his ongoing squabble with Liam. And maybe that was why Louis seemed to rub it in Harry’s face since then. Which hurt, if Harry was completely honest. Louis used to walk all around him, batting his long lashes and smirking in that way that made Harry blush wildly, and it was like a light switch had been turned off. Louis pointedly ignored Harry several times during the next week and it was  _ stupid _ . 

“What are you going on about?” Louis said now, after Harry finally confronted him about it two days later. Harry blinked, trying to keep his hold on his nerves. He’d never been able to get through an argument without tears at least brimming his eyes. He swallowed. “I don’t like that you’re ignoring me all the time now,” he repeated himself. Louis’ face softened, a furrow between his eyebrows. “What? God, Haz, that wasn’t-“ Louis cut himself off, pursing his lips. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

“How can you  _ not mean to _ ?” Harry echoed Louis, just confused at this point. The blue eyed boy looked genuinely sorry, but Harry knew that there couldn’t have been a way Louis really hadn’t had a single clue what he’d been doing- which, for all intents and purposes, had a higher chance of being intentional than not. 

Louis sighed. “I don’t fucking know,” he said. “But I’m sorry. I am,” he added, seeing Harry’s further confusion. “I really am. It was fucked up to do that, and I shouldn’t have done it.” He glanced around, and Harry watched the way his fingers flexed and closed around nothing, clearly grasping for something but nothing was just going to magically appear for Louis to hold on to. “Wanna sit down?” He offered, and Louis nodded, looking a little relieved.

They sat on the bench, but that didn’t really relieve any of the nervous tension between them. Louis’ fingers still wiggled, and Harry was still confused. (Looking back, Harry wished he’d have had more foresight. Maybe then, he’d have been able to predict their future lack of communication. And maybe that would’ve made it hurt a little bit less.) They must’ve sat in silence for five minutes before Harry coughed- accidentally- and Louis jumped, as if he’d forgotten Harry was there, even though their fingers were nearly touching on the bench they sat on. 

That was another thing Harry might have been able to predict. If only that happened on just that one occasion. But it didn’t. Louis’ hands would always be close enough to touch, but he’d be in a whole other room in his busy mind. And that happened so many times, Harry might have been able to see it coming. 

“Look, I’m sorry about siding with Liam, but he was right, you know,” Harry said gently, as if that lessened the blow. “We should probably start acting like a band.” 

Now, it was Louis’ turn to look confused. “Liam?” he echoed, a lost gaze in his eyes. Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, and he replied, “You bicker with him a lot. And a couple days ago, you were arguing about rehearsing- and I took his side,” Harry explained, confused that Louis had clearly forgotten all of this. Louis looked surprised, to begin with, but he quickly shook his head and explained that he hadn’t meant to ignore Harry for that reason. 

So, there was a reason Louis had ignored Harry, but he didn’t tell him then. They sat quietly again, the tension growing thicker and thicker. Harry had so many unanswered questions, but they all slipped his mind when Louis blurted out:

“My parents are getting a divorce.”

Harry’s face softened, and almost immediately, he wrapped his arms around Louis, trying to comfort his friend in the best way he knew how. Not by telling him everything was going to be alright, not by telling him that things aren’t going to change. He just stayed quiet, and let Louis make the first move. “I mean, I know they’ve been fighting, but they told me last week,” Louis said, cutting himself off with a sigh. I just didn’t think it would happen with them. I always thought they’d be there-  _ together _ ,” he added, trying to explain himself. Harry listened as Louis went on, “And it feels so stupid to be upset about something I can’t control. Shouldn’t I be supportive? I’m the adult, too,” he cried out. “I’m supposed to keep it together, but I can barely pick up the phone to call Mum anymore without thinking about it and I just don’t know what to do.”

Harry pursed his lips, rubbing Louis’ back slowly. Louis stayed still. There weren’t tears in his eyes, or a tremble in his chin; he’d already ingratiated himself to this idea of separation, but Harry could see that he was holding on by a thread. And Harry knew what that was like. 

“It’s not your fault, you know that?” He asked, and Louis quietly scoffed. Harry took a breath, firmly deciding to try again, this time, approaching from a different angle. “You’re not supposed to do anything,” He said gently. “You’re not expected to do anything. You’re allowed to take time to process this. And you’re allowed to grieve,” Harry added, as Louis turned to look at him. “You’re allowed to feel sad about it. It’s between them, but it’s going to affect you too,” Harry reassured him. Louis nodded. “I know. It’s just weird,” he added, laughing dryly at the  _ absurdity _ of it all. “I mean, everyone says they’re going to meet The One, and they’re going to be with you forever- but everything just ends,” Louis said. 

“Some people are happy in a relationship,” Harry offered, gingerly tiptoeing around this sensitive conversation. “Some people think there’s one person they’re meant to be with. Other people don’t, and that’s fine.” Louis sighed again. His fingers twitched again. “I thought my parents were those kind of people,” he continued, as if Harry hadn’t spoken a word. “I thought they were the type of people to be with each other forever. And now everything I thought I knew is fucked up. Like, let’s say there’s someone I like,” Louis said, making Harry jolt slightly. Out of jealousy, probably, because of course, Louis liked girls, and Harry liked Louis. 

“So, if I liked this one person, do I even try to talk to them if it won’t go anywhere?” Louis asked, looking up at Harry, and for the first time, Harry saw real emotion behind those glassy blue eyes. They were misty and tinged pink at the corners, and he looked like he wanted to cry. Harry swallowed, suddenly put between a rock and a hard place. As someone who really, really wanted to be the one person Louis was talking about, a part of him was about to tell his friend to take it slow and figure out if he even wanted to pursue this other person. And that was what he almost ended up saying. 

But when he looked into those glassy blue eyes, Harry realized that Louis was in a vulnerable state- and it would selfish to take advantage of that and even try to flirt with him, even if Louis spent every second rubbing Harry’s shoulders, leaning into his chest, joking with him, batting his eyelashes at him and making him blush. Louis was sad right now, and Harry would absolutely hate himself for trying to reach for something that wouldn’t have ever happened anyways. 

“Yes,” he answered Louis. “If you like someone, then you should always take your chance. You never know what you might have missed if you don’t try. But like, you know,” he laughed through his fake smile, “don’t be a creep. If a girl doesn’t want to give you her number, don’t keep asking for it- or whatever,” he added, watching the way Louis stiffened. “Yeah, I wouldn’t have done that,” Louis said softly, looking down at his hands. 

And ever so slightly, one of Louis’ fingers- his pinky- twitch again, but he almost moved towards  _ Harry’s hand, _ only inches away, and then he was rising from the bench, muttering about how he had to go, and Harry was left, feeling just as confused as ever. 

**Present Day.**

Given the way Harry slammed the door behind him when he entered his flat, you could’ve definitely said he was mad. Specifically at Louis. He was done with the way Louis kept weaseling his way out of situations that he fucked up just so Harry would have to deal with the aftermath, so he left Jayden’s flat (five hours after he and Jayden originally arrived there after the fiasco at lunch, but also after some much-needed sex, which helped Harry clear up his mind) with every intent to put the facts down on the table. 

  1. Louis was unnecessarily being a prick about him and Jayden getting into a relationship, and Harry needed to know what his problem was with Harry moving on and finding love in other men. 



  1. Louis wasn’t in a relationship with Harry anymore. 



  1. Louis didn’t have a say in what Harry did in his personal relationship with another man. 



  1. And finally, Louis needed to _fucking get over it._



And maybe these were more opinions rather than facts, and even possibly rage-driven, but Harry was seething and he needed to get his point across to his bandmate- because that was really all Louis was anymore. He wasn’t his friend, he was certainly not his  _ boyfriend _ , they just lived in the same flat because both of them were too stubborn to leave the place they’d both come to call home. It was almost like a competition to see who would leave first at this point, and considering Harry had picked out the furniture, the paint colors on the walls, the flat itself, he knew he wasn’t moving anytime soon. 

Luckily, Harry didn’t have to go far to find Louis. He was sitting right there when Harry came in, on the couch and watching some soap opera on the TV in front of him. He barely glanced up at Harry; he didn’t even mutter  _ ‘Hi _ ,’ like he always used to, even on their bad days. Harry took a deep breath. 

He had no interest in another argument. He didn’t want to fight Louis again and again- that solved nothing. Plus, he was a peaceful person. He wasn’t violent, and he didn’t take pleasure in getting angry and swinging his arms around and yelling. So, he made it short and sweet. 

“What the fuck, Louis.” He stated, as calmly and as rationally as he could. The bandmate looked up, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. Harry bit down on the fleshy inside of his cheek, trying to keep from letting all hell break loose. “You had no right to tell Jayden that at lunch today.” Louis raised his eyebrows. “S’ just a courtesy,” he said, matching Harry’s tone. “If you’re in a sexual relationship with someone, you should probably tell them who you’ve been with.”

Harry wasn’t a violent person, as he stated before, but in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to wreak havoc all across the room. 

“I told him already that I had sex, he knew I wasn’t a virgin,” Harry spat. “It’s not your place to tell him who I was with, regardless of whether or not we had sex.” Louis just looked annoyed, which was sort of what Harry had hoped for. “And for the record, I love Jayden. I am in a relationship with him, and he is my boyfriend.”

And that was it. Louis looked stunned, and Harry couldn’t help but feel a little triumphant on the inside. 

“And you know what?” Harry asked rhetorically, throwing his hands up in confusion. “Even after today, he still likes you. He still thinks you’re cool, he’s still going to give you the benefit of the doubt. And you know why?” He asked, inching dangerously close to Louis. “I haven’t told him  _ half _ of what you did.” Louis’ face paled, and Harry leaned down. “I could tell him all the heartwrenching details, couldn’t I? What if I told him what you told me? He wouldn’t think so highly of you if he knew what you did with-”

“Ok, enough!” Louis cried, sitting up and walking across the room. He was quiet for a minute, lost in thought, and his face looked so regretful that Harry actually felt the teensiest bit sorry for him, but that was over. “I’m sorry,” Louis said, and it sounded genuine, but Harry didn’t want to believe him again. 

So all he said was, “Sorry doesn’t cut it,” and he walked away. He didn’t even realize this was the first time he’d walked away from an argument triumphantly. 

  
  
  



	11. Chapter 11

From then on, it was almost like a switch had been flipped in Louis’ mind. He didn’t try to talk to Harry, he just ignored him, but the glares stopped at least. Usually, Louis would mutter a couple words, usually just saying good morning, but other than that, they didn’t talk. And Harry was fine with it. He couldn’t believe that after a year of stalemates, all he had to do to win for once was to speak up for himself. They weren’t arguing anymore, and that was good. Harry could deal with silence, but not fighting. 

But he had to admit, the idea of pushing Louis’ buttons was very appealing, especially since Louis had always taken the time to rub it in his face, kissing Eleanor just a little longer at the door than the times he had before. So, by his own reasoning, Harry was basically entitled to display any level of affection with Jayden. 

It started when Jayden came over to watch a movie with Harry. They were making out by the time Louis came home, accidentally stumbling in upon Jayden with his hand up Harry’s shirt and his tongue down his throat. Louis’ eyes had grown at least two sizes bigger, and he quickly exclaimed his apologies before scurrying off to the kitchen. That time wasn’t intentional, but after Jayden left that night, the idea was planted inside Harry’s head. 

The next time, Harry invited Jayden to stay the night, and Louis was just down the hall all alone. Eleanor was out of town. So if Harry was a little more vocal when Jayden was blowing him, it didn’t really matter. He’d apologize condescendingly in the morning, just him taking after Louis. Plus, it was a fantastic blowjob. 

It kept going, until Harry didn’t even consciously do it anymore. He was just relishing in this new affection, the intimacy he’d been missing. He and Jayden were young and in love, and there were added benefits to that. He’d met Jayden’s parents a week before, and they were planning to visit Harry’s mum so she could get to know him. 

She’d been surprised when Harry told her that he was in a new relationship. She seemed hesitant, but still happy for her son, if that made sense. She trusted Harry’s judgement and wished them all the best. But Harry recognized the smile that she’d used, her lips pressed together and her eyebrows arched ever so slightly, and he knew it so well. It was the smile she’d used when he asked her if he could move in with Louis- meaning that she was altogether not too sure about this sudden decision and it would take her a little while to trust Jayden, especially after what happened with her son and Louis. 

Harry was disappointed, but not surprised. It didn’t linger on his mind too long. 

Nearly three months into their relationship, Harry started realizing his own personal preferences when it came to sex. Sex was never something he’d gotten to explore before, given that he was a virgin before Louis and then hadn’t been with anyone else for over a year, but now he was figuring himself out, and he also figured that he kinda liked it. 

He liked being on the bottom, he found, but still in control. This was a realization he’d had the first time he rode Jayden and had one of the best orgasms of his life. It wasn’t anything too kinky, really, but he liked being in control of what his body was doing. He’d topped a couple times, but they figured out a couple ways to switch it up- Jayden liked to bottom occasionally, so they did that every so often, and the majority of the time Harry would use to explore his own sexuality. 

And in doing so, he also found out some things he didn’t like doing during sex. 

Harry eased himself down onto Jayden’s cock, hissing at the pleasurable burn. Jayden held his hips eagerly, letting out a little sigh as Harry sank all the way down. He felt his ass touching Jayden’s strong thighs, and he let out a soft moan, not even bothering to care about being quiet. They were alone in the flat this time, so they could be as loud as they wanted without worrying about Louis accidentally overhearing. 

“Fuck,” Jayden cried, throwing his head back against Harry’s pillows. Harry had begun to bounce up and down, feeling the drag of Jayden’s cock against his rim, brushing close to his prostate. This was nice. This felt amazing. 

“Ah,” Harry cried when Jayden began to thrust upwards, the corners of his mouth drawn up into a slight grin. “Fuck, love.” Jayden’s mouth dropped as he sat up, grasping Harry’s hips tightly, fingernails pinching the skin. Harry winced, thrown off a little, but he kept going, guessing that he might have just been a little sensitive to the sudden action. Besides, he was ok with it getting a little rough from time to time. 

“Don’t stop,” Harry panted, biting down on his bottom lip. “Wasn’t planning to,” Jayden said. Harry bit down harder on the flesh of his lip, stifling another moan. Jayden looked _fucked_ , and Harry was sure he did too- all sweaty bodies and loose curls and graceful limbs. “Fuck, you’re so sexy,” Jayden said, gripping Harry’s hips even tighter. Harry winced again, but he brushed it off as he leaned into Jayden’s neck, sucking another bruise into the soft, dark flesh. “Yeah?” Harry whispered softly, trying to sound as sultry as possible. 

Jayden’s hips thrusted upwards just as Harry slammed back down on his boyfriend’s things- and he cried out loud, ripples of pleasure spreading throughout his naked body. 

“Fuck, you like that, don’t ya’,” Jayden said, clearly pleased with his own skills. “Such a slut for it.” 

Harry felt a jolt of something- he wasn’t sure, maybe fear, but it wasn’t comfortable and that was all that really mattered in that moment. He came to a still. The only thing keeping him moving was Jayden’s continual thrusts, although those soon came to a stop as well. 

“Are you ok, babe?” Jayden asked, a furrow between his eyebrows. 

Harry was quiet for a minute, and then he said, “Please don’t call me that.”

“What?” Jayden asked. “Babe?”

“No,” Harry stammered, “a- a slut.”

Jayden went quiet, then he shook his head. “I’m sorry, love,” he said softly, reaching out to stroke Harry’s curls out of his eyes. “I didn’t mean to- I just thought-”

“Yeah, well, at least you know now,” Harry said, pursing his lips. Jayden did look apologetic, and Harry couldn’t help but feel bad, like _he_ was the one to blame here. But was Jayden really to blame? They’d been experimenting, and this was the first time Harry had actually told him _not_ to do something specifically. Why was it that the one time Harry didn’t like something, Jayden couldn’t have consulted him beforehand? 

Or maybe, Harry was overthinking the whole thing, and Harry didn’t deserve to feel like he’d deserved a forewarning. 

It was hard to resume things after that. Harry tried to get back into the swing of it, and to pick up where things had been left off, but he couldn’t really get fully back into the mindset of it. One minute, he felt powerful, he felt like he was in control, he felt sexy, and now, he felt naked, and vulnerable, and powerless. For the rest of it, Harry was slipping in and out of different emotions, barely focusing on the sexual act itself and more on himself, and where he put his hands, and how he looked. He noticed the way his thighs jiggled each time he came down- unlike Jayden’s limbs, which were toned and structured. Harry couldn’t help but notice the differences between them, muscle versus baby fat- and sure, Jayden was older, and he worked out more, but Harry did that sometimes, he just didn’t understand why the differences between their bodies were so drastic. 

Jayden had to touch him to bring Harry to an orgasm, and it was over. An hour of teasing, slowly prepping himself, kissing down every inch of Jayden’s chest, all leading to them wrapped up in Harry’s blankets, taking in slow breaths while they came down from a high. 

And honestly, Harry felt a little drained. 

“Hey,” Jayden muttered softly, trailing his finger along Harry’s collarbone. “You ok?” Harry hesitated- too long, and Jayden was sighing, sitting up so he could look directly at his younger boyfriend. His brown eyes traveled up and down Harry’s chest, and Harry felt self-concious all over again. “What’s wrong?” He asked Harry. 

Harry pursed his lips. “I didn’t like when you called me- you know,” he said, almost too embarrassed to even say it. Jayden arched a brow. “A slut?” He asked, and Harry winced. 

“Please, just,” Harry stammered, “just don’t. That’d be nice.” Jayden sighed again. Harry swallowed, sensing an argument. He could recognize all the signs. The way Jayden pursed his lips, the arch of his eyebrows, the light in his eyes- all warning signals of an argument. And Harry had just stopped fighting with Louis, he didn’t want to start fighting with Jayden. 

That wasn’t desirable. 

“How come,” Jayden began, pausing while he gathered his thoughts altogether in his mind, “when you want to try something, we do that- but when I want to try something, or I think something could be hot, you don’t like it?”

Harry furrowed his brows. “I’ve always asked beforehand,” he pointed out. “I have always asked you before we try something different. You didn’t give me any warning, that’s different.” Jayden pursed his lips again. 

“Do you think that if I had asked, you would’ve said yes?” He asked. “I don’t know!” Harry cried, a little angry, “Maybe! The point is that you _didn’t_ ask, and it caught me off guard. And besides,” he added, “maybe I don’t want to feel degraded just so you can get off at my expense.”

Jayden’s eyebrows furrowed, but he said nothing. He just sat up slowly, swinging his long legs over the side of Harry’s bed, slowly reaching for his shirt. Harry rolled his eyes. Very mature. “So you’re just going to leave?” He asked. 

“No,” Jayden said. “I need space.” Harry arched an eyebrow as Jayden reached for his jeans. “But we’re going to talk about it, right?” He asked, but he was only met with silence as a response. “You can’t just leave without talking about it. Jay,” Harry added as Jayden got up, reaching for his shoes. 

Harry felt a shudder going down his spine. He didn’t like this. This wasn’t fighting. This was worse than fighting. This time, he felt like the one picking the fight while Jayden calmly shuffled around the room, looking for his socks. He didn’t like fighting, but it was better than silence. The feelings of anger in the pit of his stomach slowly faded to fear as Jayden turned to leave, closed his hand around the doorknob and opened the door. He left the room without saying a word. 

“Jay,” Harry called, stumbling out of bed, still naked, pulling a pair of boxers over his legs. “Jay, wait!” 

Jayden seemingly ignored Harry as he kept walking, until he reached the front door and Harry reached for his hand, having caught up with him finally. He was flushed, his lungs were practically screaming at him, and he was dressed in nothing but his boxers, which were stained. “Jay, please,” he said softly. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.” 

Jayden was quiet for a minute, but then he held his hand around Harry’s, and he squeezed, and he was reaching for Harry’s cheek, caressing his cheekbone and kissing the top of his head. “It’s alright, baby,” he said softly. “We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

Harry shook his head. “No, no, it’s fine,” he said while his heart sank into his chest. He was only half-interested in it, if he was honest, but he wanted to avoid this scary version of anger. He doesn’t like silent anger. So, he’d bear with whatever kinks Jayden. And, on the positive side, at least he’d have a fair warning this time. 

Jayden smiled. “Thanks, love,” he said, kissing Harry again. He let go of Harry’s hand. 

“I thought you were staying,” Harry protested. Jayden shrugged. “I know, babe, I’ve just got to do some stuff for the studio- but I’ll be back tonight, I promise,” he said sincerely. Harry nodded sowly, remembering their plans for the evening, which just entailed a bottle of wine and a couple rented movies. “Ok,” he said softly, and Jayden squeezed his hand once more in sympathy before he left. 

Harry watched him leave. He didn’t close the door until he felt truly alone, and when he finally did, he turned around, facing the couch- and Louis, who sat there, staring at Harry with a mug in his hands. There was a moment of silence, and then, “The walls are thin.”


	12. Chapter 12

“The walls are thin,” Louis muttered, raising the mug of tea to his lips. Harry shuddered. Whether it was from the chilly air, his lack of clothing, or the cool stare Louis held with him, blue eyes meeting green, Harry didn’t know. He swallowed around a lump in his throat, only just realizing what had gone on, and how much of it Louis must’ve witnessed. There was so weight in those four words Louis had spoken. Harry shivered again, but not because he was cold. 

“You shouldn’t have apologized,” Louis said softly, looking down at his book, turned to a page in the middle. Harry said nothing. His fists curled up instinctively, and he could feel the urge to be angry, to clench his fingers so tightly into his palms that they broke the skin, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry. He was just confused, and for once, he felt like Louis just might have been right. 

But what right did Louis have to comment on his relationship like it was a drama playing on the tv? 

“When did you get home?” Harry asked quietly. Louis looked back up. “I never left,” he replied shortly. Harry felt a jolt of fear as he realized that Louis must’ve heard  _ everything _ \- from the bedroom to the brief argument to the kissing at the door- and Harry felt the blood rush to his cheeks. “Sorry about that,” Harry said, and Louis shook his head, closing his book and leaning back in his seat. 

“Harry, don’t apologize for something you didn’t do wrong,” Louis chidly gently, and Harry couldn’t help but feel like he was being admonished for something that wasn’t even his fault. “You shouldn’t have apologized to him,” Louis echoed, glancing out the window. Harry’s eyebrows furrowed. Louis was confusing him, sure, but maybe he’d entertain this idea for a minute. There was nothing left for Harry to lose- certainly not his dignity. That was thrown out the window the minute Harry stumbled into the living wearing nothing but sweat-stained boxers that smelled like sex. 

“Why?” He asked. “I started the fight, so I apologized for making him mad. It was just the right thing to do.” 

Louis pursed his lips. He looked studious, lost in thought, and honestly, quite different from Jayden. Harry really couldn’t have found someone more different from his ex boyfriend to be with. Louis’ soft brows furrowed, and his lips stayed gently parted, a sure sign that he was deep in thought. 

“Whether you started the fight or not is subjective,” Louis said, meeting Harry’s eyes again. “That’s based on opinion. I could easily say you didn’t start it just as easily as you’re saying you did. The point is that he made you feel uncomfortable, and then he pressured you into apologizing to him,” he finished. 

“He didn’t-“ Harry started, but stopped himself, closing his mouth. He licked at his chapped lips, trying to gather his thoughts. “He didn’t tell me that I had to say sorry- I did that on my own.”

“But he threatened silence,” Louis pointed out. Harry shook. “He didn’t,” he practically cried, “he just needed space.” Louis looked at him sympathetically. “Harry- he was going to leave until you apologized to him. So,” he continued, “did he really need space, or did he just want an apology? Haz- that just exempts him from taking blame for making you feel like that.” 

Harry stayed quiet. Louis stayed on the couch. 

“Harry,” Louis sighed. “You don’t like me. I know this already,” he added, holding up a hand as Harry dropped his jaw in protest. “We’re not friends, and you don’t want anything to do with me,” he added, and although he said it so nonchalantly, there was no denying the pained look behind his blue eyes. “But when we moved in, it was on the condition that I’d look out for you. I’ve not done a great job of that so far, but I’m trying to do better. And that means looking out for you. I’m just trying to make sure there isn’t this imbalance of power in your relationship.” 

Again, Harry just stayed quiet. He wasn’t sure what to feel anymore. On the one hand, he felt touched, and even flattered, that Louis was trying to show that he still cared by watching out for him now. But on the other hand, he still felt confused at Jayden’s actions and his sudden shifts in mood, and he wasn’t sure if it was such a great idea to listen to Louis over his boyfriend. Still, Louis had valid points, and Harry felt inclined to listen to him and stick up for himself. 

But, above everything else, Harry still hadn’t forgiven Louis for everything he’d done to him. So, ignoring anything else, Harry settled for feeling embarrassed at standing in front of his ex boyfriend, clearly after having sex with his current boyfriend, in just his underwear. 

“What do you know about preserving relationships, anyway?” Harry asked softly- he wasn’t meaning to sneer, or to rub it in Louis’ face. He left the room, noticing how Louis just sat on the couch, dumbstruck at Harry’s question.

**September 2010.**

Harry felt a brush against his shoulder, and then a light shove. Not hard enough to hurt, but forceful enough to be effective. He blinked his eyes open slowly, his blurry vision readjusting to the dark room. “Haz,” he heard a voice say, and then it all made sense: Louis. 

The blue eyed boy was very close to him, only a few inches away. Harry could just barely make out his features in this light. “Lou?” he whispered groggily. “What time is it?” 

“Nearly midnight,” Louis said matter-of-factly. Harry believed he might’ve called Louis some very rude words if he could have processed the information a little faster. Instead, all that came out of his mouth was some unintelligible question about what Louis wanted at that hour. “C’mon, Haz- the stars look lovely, and I wanted to show them to you.” 

“But we saw them earlier,” Harry whined. Louis chuckled softly. “Not like this- they’re so bright, love,” he explained, the endearing pet name slipping out like second nature- which at that point, it very well might have been. “Please, Harry, you’ll love them.” 

“And if I don’t?” Harry joked. Louis rolled his eyes. “I’ll buy you something,” he answered, patting Harry’s cheek. “C’mon. Just you and me outside, looking at the stars. It’ll be so nice.” 

Harry was half-tempted to try and go back to sleep. He was surprised the other boys hadn’t been woken up yet. Maybe it had something to do with him being in the single bed rather than a bunk bed, but he wasn’t sure. But something in his sleepy mind convinced him to get up and out of bed just to join Louis outside and under the stars. This was the boy he was smitten with- Harry would do anything for him in a heartbeat. 

Louis handed Harry his jacket, and he slipped on his purple trainers by the door. He let Louis lead him by the hand through the house of sleeping contestants, out the door and into the chilly night air. His eyelids were still drooping by the time they were outside, but he let Louis lead him around, through patches of grass, the dewey blades of grass clinging to his shoes and the hem of his pajama bottoms. 

“There,” Louis said finally, having found a spot where he and Harry could see the stars from the best view. “Look up, love,” he whispered, almost as if he was sharing a secret with Harry that nobody else knew about. 

Harry looked up, craning his neck. And he couldn’t even deny it- the stars were exceptionally beautiful and bright from this viewpoint. He was still confused as to why or how Louis found this out, but Harry was grateful that he had. “Wow,” he breathed, watching his breath turn into fog by the cold of the night. Louis smiled proudly beside him. “I told you,” he said happily, pleased with himself. Harry nodded. “You were right,” he agreed. 

Louis pointed up at the sky. “That’s Orion’s Belt,” he explained, gesturing towards three stars all in a row, “and there’s Sirius,” he added, pointing a little further down. He squinted up at the sky. “I think that those might be the Big Dipper- or the Little Dipper, I can’t really tell them apart,” he said with a chuckle. 

Harry smiled. “Thanks,” he whispered, leaning into Louis’ shoulder. He couldn’t help but feel a little flutter at being this close to Louis. He was close enough to touch, but he wasn’t Harry’s to hold. 

Louis smelled like coconut shampoo and mint toothpaste. He smelled like home. It was very soothing. 

“Hey, Haz,” Louis said softly, almost nervously, and Harry heard an audible gulp from Louis, followed by a couple shaky breaths. “Remember when we were talking about finding The One?”

And Harry did- a little. He was sleepy, and barely remembering the details of their conversation from last week. He remembers them talking about Liam, and Louis’ parents, and their divorce, and Harry remembers telling Louis to pursue his crush. 

Oh. 

It all came rushing back, and Harry suddenly remembered everything. He wasn’t sure what exactly he should do with this information, but it was there, and he had a vague suspicion that he was about to receive an update on that crush. 

He wondered if it was Rebekah. Or maybe one of the girls from Belle Amie. 

“Yeah,” Harry murmured. “You’ll find her, don’t worry.” He felt Louis tense up beside him. “That’s what I wanted to talk about,” Louis explained. Harry nodded. “Go on,” Harry encouraged his crush. “Let it all out. I am all ears.” 

“I think The One is a boy,” Louis said softly. 

Harry could feel his heart skip a beat. Part of him wanted to celebrate with this new information. (Louis likes boys! Harry is a boy! Louis might like Harry!) But another part of him leaned toward being realistic. (It’s narcissistic to assume someone like Louis would ever like Harry. Besides, Harry’s first instinct should be to support his friend, so why wasn’t he doing that?) 

“Really?” He asked. “That’s great, Lou,” he offered supportively. Louis blushed, smiling with his lips pressed together. “You’re the first person I’ve told,” he told Harry. “I want to tell my mum in person, but I’m not sure when that would be.” Harry smiled. “Yay,” he said softly. “I’m really proud of you. It’s amazing when you finally come to accept yourself. And you know what comes next?” He asked, and without missing a beat, he answered his own question: “Celebration.”

Louis laughed, and Harry could feel a smile creep across his lips. “But seriously, I’m really proud of you, Louis, that’s great for you,” he said genuinely. “So, who is it?” He asked. “Aiden? Zayn? Ooh, Liam,” Harry chuckled, “that would explain the love-hate thing you two have going on.” 

Louis was quiet. Harry stopped talking as well, assuming that Louis didn’t find that last joke funny, and that maybe it wasn’t funny to play a guessing game of which boy Louis was interested in. 

“I love you,” Louis said quietly, at last. Harry smiled. “Me too,” he replied, “I mean, I love you too, not I love me, too, although that’s pretty funny too-“

“Haz,” Louis interrupted, stepping away from the curly haired boy. Harry kept his eyes on Louis. “I  _ love _ you,” Louis repeated himself, stressing his words. 

And Harry felt his heart almost stop. 

“I love you, more than, like, just friends, and I think I started loving you when we met,” Louis said quickly, “and then I just started loving you a little more every day and now, I don’t think I can stop-“ 

Harry cut him off with a wave of his hand, and a quick, “I love you too. Like, more than a friend.” 

Louis looked back at Harry, and then, he was suddenly reaching out for his cheek, leaning toward him, and pressing a kiss to his lips. It was short, but Harry felt like it was perfect. The perfect timing, the perfect setting out under the stars. 

Louis pulled back, a blush to his cheeks, and a blithe smile to his lips. “I liked that,” he admitted, chuckling. Harry smiled back at him. “Me too,” he answered honestly, the feel of Louis’ lips lingering on his own. 

“C’mon,” Louis said, reaching for Harry’s hand. “Let’s go to bed.” 

“But-” Harry began in protest. Louis shook his head. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” he said softly. “Please.” 

So Harry let Louis lead him back inside, just like that. No labels yet, nothing- just feelings and a kiss. And he was fine with that so far. 

Oh, and he shared the single bed with Louis that night. 


	13. Chapter 13

Harry hummed as the car rolled along the road to Cheshire. Jayden was driving, the GPS directing him where he needed to turn in order to reach Harry’s old house. Technically, Harry would have been able to navigate his boyfriend through the twists and turns of the roads to Holmes Chapel himself, but he just wanted to relax, preparing for the weekend. 

He hadn’t seen his mother in person in months, and he was excited to see her, although he was nervous to introduce her to Jayden. He and Jayden hadn’t fought since the incident Louis had listened in on (Harry made sure to avoid that scenario again,) but things were a little tense still. 

But they were spending three days together, along with Harry’s mum and step-dad. And Harry couldn’t wait to see them again, and to show Jayden all of his favorite places. He truly believed that his hometown was a beautiful place, and he couldn’t wait to recount all of his favorite memories there to Jayden. 

He’d asked his managers if he could take a couple days off, and they gave him three days. One morning spent driving to spend an afternoon with his parents, a whole day showing Jayden around, and a final afternoon driving back to London. It didn’t seem like a lot, but Harry could work with it. Plus, he knew that his managers were being generous, giving them a whole weekend when everyday was nearing closer to the album release. The band had been doing interviews and promo performances with screaming fans outside every venue, and they’d even be flying to America in a couple weeks for a couple interviews on talk shows. Harry wasn’t excited at the idea of leaving England only to fly back within a couple weeks, but he had to admit that it had been fun to be in the states.

Jayden kept his eyes on the road, focused and calm. Harry smiled at him, although he was nervous about his boyfriend, too. He was worried that maybe Jayden had the wrong impression of what their trip would look like, and hadn’t realized that Harry and him would be sleeping right down the hall from his parents’ bedroom, considering the box of condoms Harry had noticed in Jayden’s suitcase. They hadn’t had sex since the fight either, and well, Harry might’ve been trying to avoid that too. But Jayden wouldn’t dare pick a fight in while his prospective in-laws were down the hallway. 

At least, Harry hoped he wouldn’t. 

He pursed his lips, looking out the window. His eyes wandered lazily, resting over grass and trees and road until he caught sight of the water, and where there was water, there was a bridge- and there it was. He smiled fondly. “Hey, Jay,” he said, pointing towards the little wooden bridge. The railing was beginning to break down, but the bridge was still intact, holding itself up over the stagnant water. Harry grinned. “That’s where I had my first kiss,” he explained, turning towards Jayden, who smiled in return. “Really?” he asked, glancing over at the bridge. “How old were you?” 

Harry shrugged. “Thirteen?” he said questioningly. “I’m not sure.” Jayden nodded, raising his eyebrows. “I can barely remember my first kiss,” he commented. “I was fifteen, maybe, and still in the closet, and I think we were playing spin the bottle,” he explained, making Harry chuckle. “It was pretty funny, watching everyone just awkwardly stepping over each other, and then the bottle landed on me,” Jayden added. “It was this guy I had a crush on, and he was on the footie team, so real buff. He just said it didn’t matter anyway, and he leaned over and kissed me- it was barely even a peck,” he said, almost wistfully. “He just kept talking about how it didn’t mean anything, that he wasn’t gay- I guess I was just more interested in him than the other way around. We didn’t talk much after that,” Jayden finished. 

Harry sighed softly, reaching over to squeeze Jayden’s hand. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I love you.” He spoke it like a reminder. He just felt an urge to tell Jayden how much he loved him now in order to combat the demons from his past, in order to make him forget the feeling of rejection, but not the memory, and to replace that feeling with the love he experienced with Harry now. Jayden glanced over briefly, smiling at his boyfriend. 

“Thank you,” he said softly. “Anyways,” he added, sighing. “Let’s talk about something else- your parents,” he said suddenly, as if he was just remembering what the hell they were driving all the way to Holmes Chapel for in the first place. Harry chuckled. “Are you nervous?” He said, meaning it almost as a joke, but Jayden appeared to take it literally when he responded: “Yes, very much so.”

“Don’t worry too much!” Harry said quickly, “Really, they’re very sweet, they’ll love you.” Jayden smiled softly, grateful for the reassurance. “Thanks,” he said. “I know they’re sweet, you’ve told me that a bunch. I’m just nervous about what they might think of me,” he admitted. “I mean, is there a standard they have? Do they want a specific kind of person dating their son, and am I even anything like that?” 

Harry’s heart softened as he heard his boyfriend admitting his insecurities ten minutes before they were even going to reach his parents’ house. He squeezed Jayden’s wrist. “Don’t worry,” he repeated himself. “It’s gonna be ok.”

Jayden smiled back at him, but he didn’t say anything. He only spoke after that when he was asking for directions, which wasn’t often. He still had the GPS running. The automated voice was the only one they heard in the next ten minutes as Jayden found his own way through the neighborhoods of Holmes Chapel. Eventually, they pulled up in front of a house that Harry recognized very well, having spent so much of his life living there. With a jolt, he realized that had it not been for the band, he’d still be living in that house. It did make him feel guilty, knowing how hard it had been on his mother when both he and Gemma left the house in the same year. But she still had Robin, and they were very happy in that house. 

“Is this it?” Jayden asked, and Harry nodded eagerly, unbuckling his seat belt and opening the side door of Jayden’s car. “Yeah,” Harry said, grabbing at the bag that had been sitting on top of his feet for the past couple of hours. He turned back around toward Jayden, who smiled nervously, reaching for Harry’s hand, which Harry reciprocated immediately. 

“Don’t worry,” he said for the third time. Jayden hesitated, but then he nodded, walking forward with Harry. He smiled softly, and Harry felt all of a sudden very happy. 

The door opened before they even had a chance to knock. Anne was suddenly behind the painted door, a huge smile on her lips and her arms outstretched, reaching for a hug from her son. Harry immediately jumped forward, wrapping his arms around her. It had been a minute since he’d gotten the chance to have a hug like this. His family were all huggers, but apparently that wasn’t a regular practice everywhere or with everyone, as Harry hadn’t experienced affection like this since he left home. Well, he used to, with Louis, but that wasn’t a thing anymore. 

“Oh, love,” his mother crooned, smiling proudly at her son. She had that twinkle in her eey that Harry had fondly remembered and missed. “It’s been too long. And you must be Jayden,” she exclaimed, turning towards her son’s boyfriend and extending a hand for him to shake. “It’s so nice to meet you,” she said graciously. Jayden flashed her a grin. “You too, ma’am,” he replied politely, and she blushed. “C’mon in, boys,” she said cheerfully, stepping aside to let them into her home. 

Robin was sitting on the couch, the tv playing quietly in the background. He turned towards the three as soon as they walked in the living room, and he smiled brightly at Harry, him too getting up and reaching towards Harry with his burly arms. Anne’s hugs were soft and motherly, and Robin’s hugs were comforting and strong, but Harry loved both the same, and he didn’t understand why, but he somehow needed both of them in that moment to relieve his back of all the tension and stress he’d been put through the past couple of months. 

“S’ nice to meet you, son,” Robin said, turning his attention to Jayden. He shook his hand, and Jayden looked a little intimidated, even though he was the tallest in the room. Funny how that works sometimes. 

“You too!” Jayden exclaimed, grinning down at Robin, shaking his hand too. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting both of you. I’m certain you’re wonderful even if you’re only half as lovely as your son is,” he added, winking over at Harry, who stifled a laugh. 

“Thank you,” Anne said, resting a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “We did a pretty good job with you, huh?” She joked, and Jayden laughed, although Harry did catch the forceful strain only he could’ve, already knowing what Jayden’s real laugh sounded like. 

“You sure did, ma’am,” he complimented Anne, and she smiled more. “Harry is one of the kindest people I know. I’m lucky to be with him,” he said fondly, looking right at Harry, who blushed. He’d say the same about Jayden, Harry knew, but a part of him recognized that this was slightly forced, an act to impress his parents. Which, maybe what Jayden was saying was true, but the way he said it packed on the emotion and meaningfulness that was often lacking in his everyday tone. 

Jayden looked around the room, his eyes settling on the tv screen. “Oh, is that the Manchester game?” He asked genuinely. Robin nodded. “You a fan?” He asked, and Jayden nodded eagerly. “Have they scored yet?” He asked. 

Robin shook his head. “No, it’s off to a shitty start,” he explained, sitting back down and inviting Jayden to sit with him. 

Harry smiled at his stepdad and boyfriend, them talking with each other about the players, the scores, cheering once Manchester United finally scored a point. He felt a tap on his shoulder, and Harry turned to face his mother, who beckoned for him to follow her. He obliged, and she led him into the kitchen. 

“So,” she started, reaching for the kettle- because, of course, every conversation must be paired with a cup of tea- “how have things been with you?” 

Harry shrugged, relaxing. He allowed himself to loosen up when he was around his mother. “Things are good,” he said. “S’ pretty stressful to put out a whole fucking album, mind you.” She arched a brow, and he winced, remembering all the times she’d reprimanded him for his language when he was younger. It’d helped to keep him grounded, but it was embarrassing at times, especially when he was in a band with many older boys, most of whom cursed like sailors, and when Harry had to admit that he was grounded on national television. 

“It’s been pretty stressful,” Harry repeated himself, censoring himself, and his mother resumed making tea for him and her. “I’ve recorded and written, you know, but they’re talking about writing a couple more songs for a bonus version of the album. I don’t really understand,” he added. “It’s a lot. And they’re planning this big tour,” he finished. 

Anne raised her eyebrows. “Wow,” she said. “That’s.. a lot. Are you sure it isn’t just like the last album,” she asked, “where you had a deluxe edition?” Harry shrugged again. “S’ not what they called it,” he said, “but I guess it sounds the same. In concept, anyways,” he added. 

She sighed, studying her son’s face carefully. “And you?” She asked. “And Jayden? How are things between you two?” She glanced over at Robin and Jayden on the couch, still bonding over a shared love of a sport. Harry smiled at the sight. Sometimes it was that easy. “Things are good,” he said, deciding it was way too early to get into the complications of their relationship. She smiled. “That’s good,” she said, “does he treat you well?”

Harry nodded. “He’s sweet,” he answered, “he’s kind, too. We have a lot in common, really.” It felt weird, trying to find ways to describe Jayden in a way that made him appear suitable in his parents’ eyes. He knew they wouldn’t judge, but still, he felt an odd pressure to please them after the disasters of his last relationship. Maybe one of the reasons that it failed with Louis was that he didn’t care enough, and now he needed to ensure that he paid attention to everything in his relationship with Jayden. 

“Has he got a job?” Anne asked, stirring a spoonful of sugar into Harry’s tea. She handed it to him. “Thanks,” he said quietly, “and yeah. He’s a guitarist. Does gigs and stuff.”

“Oh,” Anne said, surprised. “Maybe he could play for your band then.” Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “We’ve already got a full band, plus Niall,” he explained. “If there was ever a spot I’d offer it to him for an audition, but as of right now, we don’t have any need for another musician.” She nodded. “Just a thought,” she murmured. 

“Does he make you happy?” She asked. 

Harry hesitated- and he knew he shouldn’t have, it just made everything look so much worse than reality, but he did, and his mother caught on. She turned to him, a look in her eyes. “You don’t have to answer,” she offered, although his silence gave more of an answer than she’d ever asked for. 

“He does,” Harry said quickly. She nodded. “That’s good,” she said for the fourth or fifth time. Harry sighed, turning to look towards Jayden just in time to see him and Robin both stand up in triumph, watching their favorite team earn another point in this game that had brought them together. 

The weekend had begun, and only time would tell from here on out. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally, everything is transferred! I’m excited to start writing new chapters again. I hope you will all stick around to support this fic, I’m surprised that it’s gotten over 600 hits in less than a week, but it makes me so happy.   
> I’ve been watching Umbrella Academy and reading fanfics (my current favorites being the Since We Were 18 Series by Pink_Sunsets, Cerulean Chaos Amidst The Dark Forest by nourahl28, and pretty much anything by bravestyles. Go check them out and show them love, I definitely recommend their works.) while preparing for the holidays. I hope everyone has a lovely day xx


	14. Chapter 14

“Your family’s nice,” Jayden commented, unzipping his suitcase. Harry smiled, leaning back into the pillows of his bed. His bed. Not some mattress and bed frame he’d bought himself but the bed he’d slept in every night until he begged his mother to let him move to London when he’d just barely turned seventeen. 

It was a decision he would probably regret later in life, but he wouldn’t take it back. Not yet. 

“Thanks,” Harry said, smiling. “I told you they’d like you.” Jayden chuckled. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, laughing slightly. “You should’ve told me your step dad was an MU fan,” he added, almost accusingly staring at Harry. 

Harry shrugged. “M’ glad you two had fun,” he said, “not sure how things might’ve gone otherwise.” Jayden smiled. “Your mum’s nice enough, it would’ve worked out eventually,” he pointed out, and well, Harry couldn’t help but agree. His mum was an exceptionally nice woman. He could barely bring himself to do anything to disappoint her. 

“Should I take a shower?” Jayden asked, running fingers through his hair. Harry arched a brow. “If you’re asking, you probably should.” He said, and Jayden nodded, stifling a laugh. “What would I do without you?” He grinned, grabbing his things. 

“Bathroom’s to the right,” Harry said, the house memorized like the back of his hand. He watched Jayden duck into the room, and a few minutes later, the steady spray of the shower coming through the walls. Harry chuckled. _No wonder Gemma always complained about the singing, the walls were so thin._

Boredom came creeping over him, and like every other person between eighteen and thirty five, Harry found himself reaching for his phone. He had a few notifications from Twitter, but he ignored those. He wanted to brag about this successful introduction between his parents and boyfriend to a friend. 

It was 8pm on a Saturday night. Liam was probably available. 

_**hey dude** _

Harry wrote it facetiously, a smile on his face. It wasn’t long before he had a response. 

_**Man!! how was J meeting ur parents** _

Harry smiled. 

_**success so far. mission: achieved** _

_**thats good,**_ Liam messaged him back. _**are u all together rn?**_

_**no**_ , Harry sent. _**headed in for bed, early morning plans tomorrow.**_

_**fancy. where are you taking him?** _

_**just around home**_. Harry smiled. That’s a nice word. _**where are you? watching shit telly in bed?**_

_**at a club with tommo, actually,**_ Liam shot back. Harry was taken aback. Oh. 

He could’ve expected it- Liam and Louis were friends now, they would be hanging out with each other. It’s nothing really, so Harry doesn’t make it _something_. 

_**aww**_. He sent. _**how am i gonna know all about who got sent home on the bachelor then**_

_**shove it,**_ Liam sent, and Harry laughed. 

_**happy 4 u mate,**_ Liam sent underneath the rude retort, _**glad to hear things are better with you and Jayden.**_

Harry narrowed his brows. Things were- _better_? As in, worse before. But Liam wouldn’t know that, unless- and of course. 

Louis. And speak of the handsome devil, Liam messaged him again, saying _**louis is happy for you 2.**_

Harry’s breath caught. _**cool**_ he wrote under a layer of sweat, the anxiety pooling beneath his skin. 

Louis was so perplexing. Harry hated it.

He did believe that a part of him would always care about Louis as a first real love, even if it was one sided. Louis was good to him, (although the bar for romantic partners was low if the threshold for a good partner was just “ _he doesn’t abuse me._ ”) and he was kind and caring while they dated. 

But that same part of him would always hate Louis too, for what he did, for how he broke Harry’s heart in the most brutal way and left a thousand questions behind. Harry _didn’t_ love Louis anymore. 

So Louis was happy for Harry? Good for him. Harry hoped Louis and Eleanor would have a lovely life, have a bunch of fucking kids running around in their picket-fenced yard. 

_**excited for tour?**_ Liam asked. 

_**yeah I guess. A little pissed though, I don’t wanna be gone so long** _Harry replied, hesitantly, but honestly. 

The part stressing him out was being apart from Jayden. He didn’t know how to navigate a long distance relationship, and he didn’t want that combined with the pressure of the tour. It’d be nice if Harry could’ve just stayed in one place a little while longer, he felt like his head would explode after every concert. 

_**mate dont worry. its gunna be fine** _Liam said, and Harry smiled halfheartedly. _**sure**_ , he replied. He didn’t get another reply, and since he knew Liam didn’t drink, Harry assumed he was introduced to some lady who took up his attention. It was fine. 

The sounds of the shower stopped echoing throughout the room, so Harry turned his phone off and put it away, preparing for Jayden to walk through the doors. 

And he did- with water droplets cascading down his chiseled torso, completely shirtless, boxers exposing everything to the imagination. 

Harry could feel his throat dry up. “Ready for bed?” he asked feebly. Jayden grinned. 

“We’ve got a room to ourselves,” he said suggestively, standing over Harry. “Why don’t we make the most of it?” 

Harry hesitated, then shook his head confidently. “My parents are downstairs,” he said, remembering the box of condoms and remembering exactly what Jayden planned to do. “I don’t need them hearing.”

“They might not if we’re really quiet,” Jayden teased, getting even closer to Harry. “C’mon- it’s kinda hot, being sneaky, huh?” 

Harry shrugged. “I just don’t feel like having sex,” he said plainly, and that seemed to confuse Jayden even more. He sighed. 

“But we don’t even do it that much anymore,” he complained. Harry arched a brow, trying to recall all the times they’ve fucked in the past three months, practically on every surface of their apartments. “It’s like we don’t have time anymore,” Jayden continued. “Maybe we should be together more often.” 

Harry was confused. “What do you mean?” He asked. 

Jayden sighed again, shaking his head while he smiled. “Harry,” he said, “what if you moved in with me? 

The hairs on the back of Harry’s head stood up. He was excited, then he felt his heart sink. “Already?” He asked. He watched Jayden’s smile falter as he continued, “You don’t think we might be rushing things a little bit? I mean,” he added, laughing nervously, “we’ve barely been dating four months now.” 

Jayden frowned. He was quiet for a minute, which didn’t surprise Harry. It dawned on him that Jayden had probably been meaning to ask for a while. But it seemed shallow, asking Harry to live with him for the benefit of good sex and a lot of good sex. 

“Didn’t you move in with Louis when you were sixteen?” Jayden asked. Harry was quiet. “How long had you two been together then?”

“That shouldn’t matter,” Harry pointed out, his eyes growing misty. “Besides, that was one of the reasons we fell apart- we moved too quickly. It made it worse when we broke up.” Jayden’s brows narrowed. “You don’t think we’re going to break up,” He said cautiously, “do you?” 

Harry stared blankly. “I’m not hoping to,” he explained. “I don’t think we’re about to. But I’m not going to believe we’ll be together forever. It’s just unnecessary heartache. I don’t want to lift up my expectations,” he explained, bringing his fingers up, “to watch them fall,” and dropping his hand back down onto his bed. 

Jayden nodded. “I get that,” he said. “But I’m not Louis. I’m not going to break your heart. You and I, we don’t have an expiration date.”

Harry smiled weakly. “You don’t think he said all those things too?” Jayden looked down at his feet. “Listen,” Harry said, “I love you, and I do want to move in with you- but not right not,” he explained. “It’s not good timing. I’m about to release an album, and then I’ll be going on a fucking world tour, love.” He sighed. “It’s just not a great time,” he finished. 

Jayden nodded, sitting down beside Harry- finally. “I know,” he said. “I just don’t like it.” Harry frowned. “Like what?” He asked. 

“You’re living with your ex and not me,” Jayden said. “You don’t think that would make anyone else- you know?” Harry arched a brow.

“You’re _jealous_? Of Louis?” He asked, an occurrence that just genuinely confused him. Jayden snorted. “I just don’t want anything going wrong,” he said, “I don’t want to lose you.”

Harry’s face fell, and he looked down at his lap. “I’m not going to cheat on you,” he said sadly. “And I’m not leaving you for Louis. I’m never going to. And he is the last person in the world I’d ever go for instead of you.” Jayden smiled, clearly looked relieved, that, or he felt in power. 

Harry looked back up at Jayden- smiling sexily, hair still wet, boxers revealing more to the eye. He wasn’t in the mood for sex, and he wasn’t very aroused at the minute. But they both needed something to de-escalate the whole situation, and well, sex was what started the whole thing.

“What if I blew you?” Harry suggested softly. He didn’t want his mum hearing. 

Jayden’s eyebrows raised. “Really?” He asked, a little too excited. Harry smiled. “Are you objecting?” He asked slyly, inching closer to Jayden. His hand trailed up Jayden’s thigh to his obvious hard-on, and he felt a twitch beneath his fingers. 

“I’d love it,” Jayden said, leaning back into the pillows. Harry kept up the smile, sliding off the mattress and kneeling on the floor, settling himself in between his boyfriend’s legs. 

Of all the sexual acts Harry has either given or received, he loves being able to blow his partners. There’s a level of control that he never felt before. The weight and fullness and the feeling of bringing someone to their limits before allowing them to release. 

He reached forward, tentatively pulling down Jayden’s underwear, peeling it from his golden-brown skin. He wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock, pumping slowly, teasing. He could hear Jayden’s hisses, clearly enjoying what Harry was doing. 

“God,” he croaked above Harry, earning him a tap on the wrist, a quick hush to silence him. Harry would be mortified if his parents ever knew what was happening in his childhood bedroom while they were downstairs. Harry leaned forward, taking a fourth of Jayden into his mouth as he licked and sucked and teased. 

He thinks about the things that ground him. These are Jayden’s hands on his shoulders, Jayden’s fingers tangled up in his hair, and he’s going to town on Jayden’s body, sucking violet-purple lovebites into his inner thighs. 

Jayden didn’t last much longer, and soon Harry was climbing back into bed with Jayden, sated after having orgasmed down Harry’s throat. “I can get you off too,” Jayden offered, reaching for Harry’s pants. Harry shook his head, but Jayden’s finger wandered, pulling at the elastic seam. 

“Hey,” Harry cried, pulling away. Jayden looked shocked, immediately retracting his hand. “Don’t,” Harry said aloud. Jayden’s eyes softened, and he said his apologies quickly, but Harry shrugged it off, reaching to turn out the light. Jayden whispered into Harry’s ear, “I’m sorry- I didn’t see you.”

“Just don’t do it again,” Harry said sleepily, letting himself fade into the darkness, Jayden’s arms wrapped around him. Jayden’s apologies dwindled into soft snores, and Harry listened to them, struggling to fall asleep. 

He hated nighttime, he hated sleeping as much as he hated being not able to sleep. He didn’t like being left to drift into his thoughts. 

He thought about Jayden, and he thought about jealousy. Such a green monster. He thought about Louis. _Why did he still live with him?_

He thought about himself. 

He never thought about how much he disliked himself before. He didn’t like how his stomach bulged in photos or how his cheeks puffed out while he looked in the mirror. He wondered that if he just stopped eating, the pudge and fat would disappear finally, instead of just waiting around forever for time to melt away the baby fat.

He didn’t like how whiny he was, or how clingy he was. He put on a whole fucking show just to avoid a fight with his boyfriend. 

And even then, they fought. 

But it was all pretty pointless anyway. Harry was going on a tour in a matter of months. November was flying by fast, and he disliked how quick the days passed, all blending into each other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays! I hope you enjoy this chapter, please tell me your thoughts in a comment below.


	15. Chapter 15

Harry got the call while he was eating lunch with his mum and Jayden. He didn’t think it was anything, just Paul checking up on him, honestly. 

“Hey,” he said casually, speaking in between bites of hamburger. His mum made him order an extra side, she disliked how thin he looked. He ate for her sake, although he wouldn’t have if not for her. He kept picking at his fries, nibbling at the edge of the bun. 

It was a nice day, not a cloud in the sky. They were going to spend it here, and then they’d meet up with Gemma for dinner and they’d walk around, just like they used to, before Harry was famous. His fame was something Harry sensed Gemma resented, every time they stopped because someone recognized him and wanted a picture, or an autograph, or when people harassed her online, begging to get a message to Harry. She disliked being a celebrity’s sister, Harry could just tell. 

“Harry,” Paul said, sounding urgent. “How fast could you get to London?” Harry narrowed his brows. “I’ll be coming back tomorrow afternoon,” he explained. He sat back in his chair. 

“Harry, they need you back now.” Paul said firmly. Harry sat back up, hair standing on end. 

“What?” He muttered. “They hadn’t heard about your vacation- they booked a last minute interview.” Harry shook his head. Anne and Jayden were both staring at him, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

“But this is my time,” Harry said. Paul tried to cut in, but Harry spoke louder. “This is my time to see my family, surely they can work around me.” 

Jayden furrowed his brows in confusion, but Anne sighed, resigning herself to this situation. She’s been through it before, she’ll likely survive. 

“Everyone else will be there,” Paul said. “We don’t want to have just one missing right before the album release. You’re stronger as a quintet.” Harry teared up. 

“I haven’t even seen my sister yet,” he said sadly. Paul sighed on the other end. For a moment, Harry hoped he might win, but Paul cut back in with “I can’t cancel this interview, and they won’t change their minds. Your family could drive up to London if necessary. Harry, it’s just part of the job,” he finished, because, of course, it was  _ part of the job.  _ It had been since Harry was sixteen and big-eyed and he dreamt of fame, so he signed a contract promising five albums and endless hard work, all in the name of fortune and success. 

Two years in had already taken a toll on Harry, and it appeared like he was the only person to realize it. He wished, sometimes, that someone would approach him, and ask him if he was ok, and he didn’t have to lie. He wished that someone would be willing to sit down and talk through everything with him, so the weight on his chest would be lifted off and he could finally breathe again. 

“Paul,” he cried, “I can’t do this, I just can’t-“ 

“What’s he asking?” Jayden asked. Harry looked over at his boyfriend, his heart sinking deeper into the empty pit of his stomach. He felt like he could throw up his lunch, what little of it he ate. 

“They have an interview booked for this evening,” Harry explained quickly, “and they forgot to remember I’m on  _ vacation _ .”

“Harry,” Paul chided on the other end of the phone. “It’s a misunderstanding- these things will happen. We just have to work around them.”

“I’m visiting my family,” Harry said, “why didn’t you tell them that?”

“Harry,” His mother said calmly. Her quiet voice drew his attention and he turned his face to look at her. “It’ll be alright- it’s your job,” she said. Harry shook his head. “No, Mum,” he said. “They should’ve put something down for this weekend. They weren’t supposed to book anything. And even if they had to,”  _ which, they didn’t,  _ “they could’ve sent any couple of the boys to go by themselves for an interview. They’ve done it before, with me and Louis.”

The air was quiet. Harry’s mum shot a frosty look at the mention of his ex, but she said nothing. Jayden looked uncomfortable, caught between the two of them, mother and son. 

“Harry, I understand what you’ve taken up just as much as anyone. Probably more so,” she added. “This is just what you signed to do. And if we can’t meet this week, we’ll meet as soon as possible.”

“I’ll drive back after the interview,” Harry said firmly. Anne sighed and shook her head, smiling at him in a soft and simple little way. “That’s just an inconvenience, now, love,” she chuckled. “Go. Come back soon- next week at the  _ earliest _ ,” she stressed her words. Harry sank a little deeper into his seat at that. “Fine,” he compromised. “But not a minute later. I’ll be back,” he promised. 

“Alright,” Anne said. “That’s alright. We’ll do that.”

Harry swallowed. He raised his phone again to meet his ear. “Paul?” He asked. “What time is that interview?”

-

It took a lot more than just a simple agreement over the phone to really convince Harry to leave. He swore to get there, but his emotions got the best of him, and he found himself trying his hardest not to cry as he packed his things as quickly as he could, with his mother’s help. 

And driving away was so much worse. He couldn’t look back to see his mum and Robin waving goodbye; the tears were too thick, pouring down his cheeks in big droplets, audibly dripping onto his sweater and pooling underneath his chin. 

He broke when they turned around the corner, and he turned his face away so Jayden wouldn’t see him crying. It would be the first time he did. 

Harry never had a great relationship with his own emotions. It was embarrassing to cry; nobody he knew did that past the age of ten, not even the girls. And still, he was so sensitive to everything revolving around him. He hated how the backs of his eyes began to sting, and how a lump would form in his throat and begin to choke him from the inside. And it wasn’t like he’d been told not to cry, it was encouraged, actually, growing up. But he couldn’t shake the unpleasantness that came with the whole sensation, or how the worst memories would come flooding back, along with the tears. 

He remembered feeling self conscious when the X Factor taped his crying, but when it aired, he had to watch it, face red with embarrassment and his heart slowly sinking down into his stomach. It should have been a nice memory. The band was being formed, he was getting closer to Louis, and he was on TV, every kid’s dream, but he could only cringe and recoil at his weepy eyes and flushed face. 

He could only remember feeling comfortable crying around Louis. After the first couple times they’d shared tears before getting together, there wasn’t as much embarrassment. And whenever Harry was upset over a mistake he did onstage, whenever he missed his mum a little extra, or whenever he was just simply too frustrated and tired not to cry, Louis would wrap him up in his arms and let him. 

And even then, after all that, the day Louis walked out, Harry had no one’s arms to be wrapped up in, no soft hands wiping his tears away. He cried and cried and cried himself into a big ball of shame, wishing he could just melt into the floor like tears seeped through the fabric of his shirt. 

Harry still didn’t have that with Jayden. It was awkward, and Harry didn’t like that. They’d gotten together quickly, so Jayden hadn’t seen Harry’s bad parts until now, when they were on full display for him. 

Harry tucked himself further into the corner, retreating into the view of the window as he wrapped his arms around himself. Jayden turned on the radio, but not even that could ease the tension in the car. Jayden was itching to say something about the situation, and Harry was wishing it wasn’t happening at all. He’d be happier pretending that he’d be fine. 

Harry finally managed to convince himself that crying wouldn’t kill him (not today, at the very least) and he lifted up his head. Almost two hours had passed, to his surprise. It was getting more golden, closer to sundown that high noon, and he knew that even when he’d arrive there, at the interview, he’d just barely have made it in time. He was cutting it close. 

“Could you go a little faster?” He asked quietly. Jayden turned to look at him, arching a brow. “Is this not good enough for you?” He asked. “First damn thing you say in hours, and you’re complaining.”

Harry cringed. “I’m sorry,” he said, feeling anxious, but I just want to get there with enough time.”

“I thought you didn’t want to be there,” Jayden said. “You said so yourself.”

“That was at lunch,” Harry tried to remind him. “Before we made the decision to leave. I didn’t want to, but now that I am, I’d like to be there on time, so it will be worth my time.”

“ _ We  _ didn’t make any decisions,” Jayden said curtly. “No, no. You did all the talking; you and your mother. And I’m supposed to go along with it. This is my trip too, huh?” He asked. “This isn’t a one person thing- I’m affected by this too.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, but Jayden cut him off again. “You know, I turned down a gig that would’ve gotten me a lot of money, and publicity to boot, but I didn’t take it. Because I was being a good boyfriend and I came down to meet your family. And I’m still doing the right thing and being a good boyfriend,” he explained, “driving you to this fucking interview.”

Harry was taken aback. “Jay,” he tried to speak calmly, rationally. “I’m under contract. I could’ve lost money by refusing to show up. This isn’t something I have control over.”

“I could slow down,” Jayden pointed out. “You could’ve not picked up their calls, you could’ve forgotten your phone, there could be traffic- there’s so many ways we could still not show up. Hell, why am I driving? You should be doing this- it’s your mess.” The comment stung. “But I’m doing it because I’m nice. So we’ll get there when we get there and not a minute sooner,” he finished.

Harry sat in silence, tears pooling again in his eyes. He felt sick to his stomach, and his head felt a rush of blood going down to his feet as everything grew cloudy. He retreated back into his little ball of shame, curling his feet underneath his knees. 

“Could you stop sniffling? It’s annoying.”

Harry quieted down, scared of his next move. He thought about what his mum had asked him last night, about whether or not he was happy. He felt like the question answered itself, but there was still a part of him that was hopeful. And hey, maybe he could change for the better, and potentially even change Jayden for the better. Because that’s just what relationships are. Right? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a while, huh? (So much for posting twice a month.) I hope you all enjoy this chapter, I’m sorry the wait was so long.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in January, yay! Some fetus Larry flashbacks in this one luvs

Harry didn’t get a chance to go back the next weekend. He had to stay in London, stuck in the recording studio and redoing all the bits of the album that the producers decided weren’t up to par. And it broke his heart to call his mom and tell her he had to break his promise. So he didn’t. 

He let her know the news through an email. He told her that they were busy, him and Jayden. Which was true, since Jayden had taken on a gig after Harry told him he probably wouldn’t be able to get out of the re-recordings. She was upset, but she wasn’t surprised. She reassured him, and said it was fine. But he couldn’t stop feeling all rotten inside, like he’d eaten something that had recently expired. 

Jayden tried to help soothe his anxieties, rubbing his back and reassuring him that everything was fine, and that they could just see her another time. Harry wasn’t so sure. He wanted Jayden to meet his dad, and Gemma, and he wasn’t sure when the next time he’d get a chance to arrange a visit like that, with all the press and tour and album releases coming up and clogging up his schedule. As far as he cared, Harry was convinced that he was just about the worst person in the world. 

He thought some people might agree. 

Harry was in the recording studio again. It was late, and all he wanted to do (and when he said that, he meant that what he really, really, really wanted to do, more than anything) was sleep. 

His eyelids were heavy, and he kept yawning in between takes. It was not fun for him. Everyone else was hyped up- Liam, Zayn, Niall, even Louis- on coffee and adrenaline, really happy about releasing this album. Harry didn’t understand it, how they could possibly get up each morning and become all excited about grueling work, re-recording every single little fucking thing (like, did he really have to redo a perfectly fine recording because it wasn’t good enough for their impossible standards?)

Anyway- Liam, who was about as pumped up as could be, reminding Harry of a very energetic golden retriever, was standing in front of the mic, headphones on, belting out a note. He sounded great, but Harry could barely concentrate on anything at the moment. He glanced over at his watch. It was near midnight, and Harry was thoroughly exhausted. 

“Alright, Harry,” their producer said, “and Louis. I want to redo the Little Things chorus with the harmonies to try and achieve a clearer sound, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Harry instinctively turned to the blue eyed boy, and it appeared that so did Louis, as they locked eyes, continuously on the same wavelength. Harry quickly turned away and got up, walking towards the microphone as Liam went to sit back down. He did his best to look away as he slipped the headphones over his ears. Harry might have been the younger one of the former couple, but he wasn’t about to be the immature one. He could work with Louis, and not have any relationship outside of that. Well, besides being roommates, because the two of them weren’t about to leave the perfect home. He and Louis were colleagues, and bandmates, nothing more. 

“Where do you want to start from?” Louis asked, turning his attention back to the producer. The only problem with Harry’s big plan to display an extreme amount of maturity was that Louis was so effortless with how much he didn’t care. Maybe that was the secret to it- indifference. 

“Take it from the second to last chorus, after Harry’s solo, all the way to the end,” the producer instructed. “ _ I won’t let these little things,”  _ he recited, gesturing for the music to begin. 

Harry could hear the guitar strums beginning again and on cue, he began singing, trying to focus on the blend of his voice with Louis’, rather than just the words. Ed Sheeran was a talented writer, but the song hit close to Harry’s heart, and he could envision days spent in the peace of the bedroom, lazily cuddling in the fading light of the dawn. 

He could hear Louis’ soft rasp. And a part of Harry’s heart ached, knowing that beautiful tone would be heard least on the album, underneath the layering of four other voices. 

“Perfect, lads,” the producer said, shooting both of them a grin and a thumbs up. “You can take a break right now, Harry, we’ll be working on Louis’ solo, and then some things after that.”

Harry nodded. “Thanks,” he said. “I’m going to get some water.” He walked out into the hallways in search of the water fountains. It was a bit of a long walk, the way the floor plan was laid out. Eventually he reached them, and he took his time, taking a long enough drink from the fountain. There were a couple chairs in the back halls, and they looked comfy enough. Harry didn’t suppose it could hurt too much to take a minute to sit down. 

He sank into the chair, and he groaned as he did, feeling his bones crack and fit back into place. It was so soft and so comfortable, and Harry just let his eyelids sink as he fell into the most peaceful rest he’d had in days. 

**September 2010.**

“Harry, Louis, wake up already!” 

All Harry could register early on in the morning was the feeling of a body, once pressed against his back, pushing away from him and stumbling across the room. 

He looked over at Louis, standing awkwardly on the other side of the room, just as Niall walked in, still in his pajamas. “You guys missed breakfast,” he said, looking between the two boys. “There’s still some down there, but you better make it fast if you still want it warm.”

With that, he left, but not without staring at the both of them long and hard, like he knew something. Surely he didn’t- Harry’s broad shoulders and the blankets would have hidden Louis from sight. Still, the bundle of pillows under Louis’ covers looked like a bundle of pillows in broad daylight, and Harry didn’t think their bandmates were that stupid. Besides, Harry would hope they could tell them soon enough. 

After Niall left, Louis gingerly walked over to Harry’s side, looking warily at the door. “G’ morning,” he said raspily. Harry smiled. “Hi,” he answered. “You sure look pretty in the mornings.” Louis’ cheeks blushed a shade of cherry bashfulness. 

“As do you,” Louis returned the compliment. “I had fun last night.”

“We kissed,” Harry murmured happily, although the sweet lock of eyes was broken by Louis quickly glancing over at the door. He frowned, and looked down. Louis arched a brow. “What’s wrong?” He asked, ducking to catch Harry’s eyes in a tender gaze again. 

Harry sighed. “It’s just- you’re acting a little weird today,” he said. “I thought last night, when we went out, and we- you know,” he too, found himself glancing out the window, “kissed, I thought that we were okay- not that we’d hide. But the way you were acting just now, with Niall, and even now, you’re acting paranoid.” He swallowed. “Are you ashamed of me?”

Louis’ eyes widened. “No!” He exclaimed. “No, no, of course not,” he added, carding his fingers through Harry’s curls to reassure him. “I could never, ever be ashamed of you.” Harry smiled a little, but it faltered. “Can you promise me?” 

“Of course, love, anything,” Louis vowed seriously. Harry nodded. “Promise me that you’re not ashamed of me,” he pleaded, “and that, you’re actuall interested. I don’t want to be an experiment,” he finished. Louis nodded. He took Harry’s hands in his, and kissed over his thumbs. 

“I promise that I really, really do like you,” Louis said earnestly. “I promise this isn’t an experiment, and I’m definitely not ashamed of you. There will never be a day I’m ashamed of my feelings for you,” he added, making Harry blush and smile and fall for Louis a little more. “But I’m scared- you’ve been out, for a while, too. I’m not, and I don’t know how my family would take it. I think that they’ll be okay with it, but I’ve just got this mental block about the whole thing,” he explained. “I don’t even know what I am, gay, or bi, or whatever. I just- I want to be with you so bad. But it might take a minute to warm up to the thought of being open with this. If you don’t mind waiting around for me, will you please, please take a chance on me?” Louis begged. 

Harry smiled and nodded. “Of course,” he promised, and Louis beamed so brightly as he leant up to press a soft kiss to Harry’s lips. 

Harry could wait as long as Louis needed as long as he got to spend his life receiving and giving kisses like that one. 

**Present Day.**

“Harry!” He heard a shrill voice hiss. 

Harry jumped up at the sound, dangerously close to his ear. He was jolted from a peaceful sleep to the harsh light of the hallway and Liam’s face about two inches away from his ear. He shrank away from Liam only to realize that everyone was standing around him, Niall, Zayn, Louis and Liam, who he now knew had all caught him fast asleep in the comfy chair. 

“What the hell?” Zayn shrugged. Harry arched a brow, reaching up to wipe his eyes. “M’ sorry,” he murmured, leaning forward. “I was just trying to sit down for a minute, I’m sorry,” he added, looking up and trying to bat his eyelashes and appear extra apologetic. 

“Harry- you’ve been gone for nearly half an hour!” Liam cried. Harry’s eyes widened. “What?” he cried. Liam nodded. “You didn’t come back, but we were trying to move on, so we all started looking for you. Christ, Harry, you fell asleep!”

“I’m tired,” Harry complained. Zayn leaned forward to rest a hand on Harry’s shoulder, rubbing and caressing carefully to help calm the boy down. “So are we. I know it’s hard to do this job,” Zayn said, a little softer in his approach than Liam was, with his harsh tone and scathing words. Harry sighed. 

“I haven’t slept well in days,” Harry cried. “And it’s near midnight-“

“Past midnight,” Niall corrected him. “Past midnight,” Harry continued, silently thanking Niall with a glance over at him. He still couldn’t believe that he’d fallen asleep for thirty whole minutes. It was an unnerving thought. “And I want to rest so, so bad, it makes me want to cry. And when I’m working so late, it’s so much worse than anything else and I can’t actually sleep in the morning. It fucks my schedule up so bad,” Harry exclaimed. “I’m so tired.”

Zayn looked up at him sympathetically. Liam shook his head. “Harry, listen,” he snapped. “We’re all tired. We’re all losing sleep. We all feel like we’re being overworked. But that doesn’t give you the right to slack off while we’re still pushing forward,” he said. “When we started, you were so excited for everything we’d do- you wanted to tour, sing, release a million albums, do everything in the book,” he explained further. “But it feels like you’ve stopped being as committed as you used to be. Please, Harry, this is something we all love, but it doesn’t work if we don’t all put in an equal amount of effort. So, are you with us in this, or do you want to quit?”

Harry looked up at all of them in surprise. “You can’t give me those two options,” he protested, “that’s not fair. I want to do this. But I don’t want to do it every minute of every day.”

Niall shifted. “I kinda agree with Liam,” he admitted. “Love ya’, Haz, but you’re dragging us down with you.”

Harry looked around at all of them. He was surprised by Liam, more so by Niall, but even Zayn looked like he agreed with the two of them. Only Louis seemed to silently side with Harry, his gaze shifting to the side, connecting with Harry’s for a brief moment. But he said nothing, and Harry was left to himself. 

He swallowed. “Yeah, I’m sorry, guys,” he sighed, and they sank with relief, “I’ll work harder, I promise.” He rubbed his eyes, only hoping when this album was ready, he’d have at least some sanity left to lose. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, another chapter!! I hope you all enjoyed this one x


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